The Parisian Deal
by Borzoi
Summary: Inconsolable over her mother's death, Caroline turns her back on Mystic Falls… and on her humanity. At their wits' end, her friends decide to seek help from the most unlikely of allies. An ally with a very personal interest in Caroline's humanity. Really just a little five-shot. Because it's Valentine's Day. ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Dearies,**

**Happy Valentine's Day! :)**

**It's been quite a while, I know... :) First of all, I'd like to apologize to and thank all of those who've reviewed my other stories over this past year, who've sent me PMs and who've just been so lovely. I'm really sorry for the radio silence, but these 12 months have been my busiest to date. I've finished the first rough draft of my first novel, but it'll still take me ages to make it remotely presentable. And as the bloody thing is currently driving me nuts, I had to step away from it for a few days and do something else - well, and this is the meager result. ;)**

**The Parisian Deal is just a tiny five-shot I hadn't even planned to upload in the first place, but as today is Valentine's, I thought I'd do it anyway; I hope you guys might like it a little.**

**Rated M for the last chapter, which is still in the works. ****As a side note, I haven't watched TVD Seasons 5 and 6, nor have I watched TO, so none of this is really canon.  
**

**Enjoy your Valentine's, and I hope you all have a wonderful day! :)**

**Much love,**

**Sybille**

* * *

Until this day, Caroline Forbes had not known that some variations of light could be worse than darkness. This cold, white neon light bathing the linoleum floors in a sterile glow certainly was.

She had never paid much attention to the lighting before, or to the floors that reflected the sallow, depressing illumination. Why would she. They remained entirely oblivious to the woes of those dozens of pairs of feet trampling their way through the hospital's corridors. The hospital that for weeks had borne witness to Liz Forbes' slow, pain-filled decay.

For the hundredth time that day, Caroline cursed everything and everyone. The treacherous illness that had silently spread its deadly tentacles within her mother's body. The doctors incapable of finding a miracle cure. Her own helplessness in the face of Liz's ordeal. And in her weakest, most vulnerable moments... she cursed Liz for not allowing her vampire daughter to save her life. A remote part of her understood her mother's refusal as she had come to understand her father's unwillingness to live as a creature he profoundly hated, but rationality was not her forte these days, especially since her broken heart was complemented by ever-growing bouts of terminal fear over losing the last true anchor of stability in her life. How was she supposed to carry on when... no. All would be well. They would cure Liz. They would find a way to fight back the illness. They...

"Miss Forbes?"

Her head jerked up at the sound of Dr. Sapperstein's familiar, reassuring voice. She hadn't heard the physician approach and was a little taken aback by his appearance out of thin air, and even more so by the warmth and compassion that filled his eyes.

_No. Please. No. God, if you exist, now's the moment to let me know. I need you. Please!_

"Doctor?" Her own voice sounded hollow to her. "Is my Mom...?"

He held out a hand, and when she rose and took it, he covered her hand with his. "You're a very strong young woman, Miss Forbes, and you'll need that strength now. For your mother, but most of all, for yourself." He paused, and Caroline felt everything inside her come to a halt. "There's nothing more we can do for her. Her body no longer responds to any form of treatment, and as of this morning, her vital organs have begun to fail. I can't say exactly how much time she has left, but you'll want to say your goodbyes, and you'll want to say them now. I'm so sorry," he added, patting her hand.

A layer of ice closed around her heart as she stared into Dr. Sapperstein's gentle features. Why was he looking at her like that? Her Mom wasn't dying, he had it all backwards! She was improving, she was coming back to life, and he had just misinterpreted the signs! Oh, she would sue the hell out of him, she would make sure he lost his license! Sorry, was he? He would soon be sorry that he had ever set foot in medical school!

Caroline's jaw set as she called herself to order. Figuratively stomping her feet like a child would not change the inevitable, and blaming a doctor who, from day one, had done everything in his power to ease Liz's lot was among the more idiotic thoughts she had entertained as of late. So she squeezed his hand, gave a brittle smile and nodded.

"Thank you, doctor. Is she... is she in any pain?"

"No. We had to significantly increase her morphine dose to keep the pain at bay, but it thankfully did work out well." Biting her lip and wishing she could just scream and howl, Caroline turned to make her way to her mother's room when Dr. Sapperstein asked, "Is there anyone you can call? A friend, a relative?"

Her smile was bitter as she realized how the first person she thought of was still Elena, but it lost some of its acidity when Elena's face was fast replaced by Stefan's. "Yeah, I have someone I can call. But I'll do it later. I don't want to waste what little time I've left."

"Do it now," he said. "You know, sometimes grief gets the better of us, and we no longer remember what the right thing is to do. That's when we need our friends around, and that's why you should make this call now that you can still think clearly."

_I haven't been thinking clearly in weeks. What difference will a few more hours make? A few more... minutes?_

"Thanks, doctor. I'll keep it in mind."

* * *

"You look like you've just come straight from the spa," Caroline attempted a feeble joke when she sat down at Liz's bedside, desperately trying not to betray her horror at how her Mom seemed to have deteriorated since the morning. The number of tubes, needles and other medical equipment had multiplied, and an oxygen mask hid most of Liz's waxen face. The wafts of disinfectant and medication billowing through the room like invisible fog did nothing to lighten the atmosphere. Where Caroline had never liked hospitals, she had lately grown to loathe them, and she knew that from this day onward, she would never set foot in a clinic again without the cold shudders that gripped even her impermeable vampire system.

As she took Liz's cool hand and squeezed it with caution, she cringed inwardly at her mother's failed attempt to press her hand in return. The frailty in the woman who had been so in command of herself, fearlessly facing human and supernatural trespassers every day, came as a massive shock in spite of weeks of mental preparation. Then their eyes met, and Caroline nearly dropped Liz's hand. It was as if a harbinger of death had already taken possession of her mother's gaze; it bore an expression of knowing detachment, mixed with tenebrous clouds of nothingness. No matter how used Caroline had become to seeing death in its many variations, the violent albeit fast endings of those falling prey to her kind were nothing compared to watching a loved one slowly perish from a fatal illness, observing how the light in her eyes faded a little more with each passing minute, how her body began to take measures to shut down and her spirit seemed to wane into oblivion.

"Take... off... this mask," Liz's barely audible whisper broke into her somber thoughts, making Caroline shake her head.

"You need to breathe. It'll be harder without the mask."

The tender smile on her mother's withering features broke another piece off her fractured heart. "Can't you... just once... do as you're told?"

"You should know me better than that," Caroline murmured while removing the oxygen mask with infinite care. "Only for a couple of minutes, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Liz countered. Her smile faltered as she sucked in much-needed air, a herculean effort by the sound and look of it. "Sweetie, we don't have much time. So just... listen to me, okay?"

"Okay." Clearing her throat and trying to get rid of the thick lump in her throat, Caroline edged closer and gripped her Mom's hand more firmly. Liz blinked several times before she took a deep, rattling breath.

"I want to... apologize to you." When Caroline opened her mouth to speak, her mother shook her head. "There are many mistakes... I made as... a mother, and I'm afraid... they were too many to count. But the biggest... of them all was that I... never put you before my job... my problems... my convictions. I should have, and I didn't. Neither... did your father. What that taught you... what _we_ taught you... is that you're not valuable enough... to be put... ahead of everything . But you are, sweetie. More than anyone... else out there."

Caroline didn't find the fortitude to suppress her tears. They flowed down her cheeks in tiny rivers, trickling onto the bed cloth. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into her mother's arms and let herself be comforted, have Liz assure her that all would be well, that there would be many more picnics... and that she would always be at her daughter's side. It was this very moment that made Caroline understand a simple fact. Underneath her undeniable capability to weather even the greatest of supernatural storms, she was not yet ready to say goodbye to the thin line that grounded her to her human roots. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to her childhood.

"Mom, I..."

"Still my turn. There's... something else, too. I've always... underestimated your strength, Caroline. So does everyone else. I know I... should say that you'll... never need anyone but yourself... but that would be a lie. We all need... people who understand... and see us for who... we really are. You do, too. But unlike most others... you're strong enough... to endure times when you... don't have anyone like that around. Those times... will come. But you'll... still carry on..."

Liz's eyes widened as she failed to draw breath. Within less than a second, Caroline had replaced the oxygen mask; her fingers shook violently as she felt her mother breathe again, although more flatly than before. After a few more breaths, Liz tried to lift her arm to reach the mask, giving another weak smile when Caroline removed it once again.

"What I... am saying... is that there's nothing... you can't do. Or be. I love you... so much... and I'll never... worry about you. You'll... find your way, even... when there are... bumps in the road. Because you're... my beautiful, strong Caroline."

It was more than she could bear. With a strangled sob, Caroline wrapped her arms around her Mom's fragile frame, rested her head against Liz's shoulder and began to cry in earnest. "I love you, Mom. I love you like crazy." She cried even harder when she felt her mother's hand feebly stroke her arm. They lay like that for minutes, and with every labored breath, with every rattle in Liz's throat, Caroline's despair rose. She held on to her Mom like a shipwrecked person held on to the last piece of wood floating on the churning ocean, unable to let go.

"Sweetie... your life's... waiting. Go... find... it... and..."

There was a quiet choking sound, and Liz's hand dropped from her arm. Caroline jolted out of her stupor and rose in a blur. Her mother's eyes were glassy, staring unseeingly into the void. Her arm dangled from the bed... and she was no longer breathing.

From one second to the next, Caroline's insides froze solid. The room, the sunlight streaming in from the windows, even Liz's lifeless frame - everything became grey and silent and meaningless.

At the very same instant, the alarm on the cardiac monitor went off with a series of loud beeps.

But when a throng of doctors and nurses burst into the room, Caroline was long gone.

* * *

"Don't do this. Not all by yourself."

She had expected him to find her sooner or later, even here, in the depths of the forest. It was the one place where she usually found some peace; she had always liked it here, but today, the trees had lost their color, the light breeze felt like razor-sharp knives cutting her skin, and the birds' chirping sounded like nails on a chalkboard. So did Stefan's voice.

"No offense, Stefan, but I really want to be alone, okay?" she managed to mutter with her remainders of civility. After leaving the hospital, she had dashed off in no particular direction, and with every step, every leap she took, the paralysis inside her had crumbled and given way to an invasion of agony the likes of which she had not believed possible. A remote portion of her brain knew she was teetering on the verge of implosion, and she needed to be alone when it happened.

"I do take offense. I'm your friend, I've been at your side for weeks, and I certainly won't let you go through this on your own."

Her voice quivered. "Thanks, but no thanks. I just need some peace, Stefan. I can handle this."

"No, you can't. No-one can handle the loss of a loved one all by themselves, not even you." He inched closer and held out his hand. "Caroline."

Before she knew it, she found herself in his arms - and all hell broke loose. The dams inside her burst, and a tidal wave of red-hot pain flooded her every fiber. She remained stock-still, frozen in sorrow and crippled by fear, unable to accept the comfort Stefan was offering. And bit by bit, her agony magnified. Crying and shouting could have provided relief from what haunted her, but she didn't have the energy to go there, although somewhere deep inside she understood that what she was doing to herself made matters worse. Much worse. Every tear she didn't shed felt like a drop of poison that infected her system, every sob she didn't give in to was a hook that drove despair and fear deeper into her soul. She was trapped in this prison of growing grief and loneliness. The strength everyone always kept going on about... Caroline felt none of it, on the contrary. She felt weak, isolated, abandoned, and at the complete mercy of her inner hell.

_You were wrong, Mom! So wrong! I can't do this without you. I have to know you're there, and I... I just can't! Mom, this hurts_ _so bad!_

Summoning her every remaining ounce of power, she placed her hands flat on Stefan's chest and shoved him away. He flew backwards a few yards before slamming into a tree trunk and landing on his feet. Caroline felt the veins underneath her eyes protrude and her fangs descend as she glowered at him with a scowl as black as the future that lay ahead of her.

"I said I want to be alone! Go away, Stefan, or I swear I'll make you!"

"Be my guest," he said, his voice kind, his eyes filled with understanding. But he _didn't_ understand. He had no idea of how this cursed, goddamned day had turned her world into a gigantic pile of shambles that could never be patched back together. He didn't know that the pain ate her up from the inside and would continue to do so until nothing was left of her.

And that was the precise moment the thought began to blossom in her mind, small at first, but inflating with every passing second until ultimately filling up her entire being. There was a way to handle this. To escape all the grief and sorrow until she found the fortitude to look it straight in the face. To escape herself and everyone else who would be beyond disappointed in her current lack of everything.

Stefan came towards her at a measured pace, hands lifted to signalize he wouldn't touch her. She turned to look at him with sudden composure, straightening to her full height and remaining immobile as he approached.

_I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so, so sorry. Please forgive me!_

An instant later, Stefan's eyes narrowed before he tore them wide open. "No!" he shouted, "No, Caroline!"

He was too late.

Peace and quiet floated through her, covering the bleeding open wounds, despair and raw fear like a soft, soothing balm.

It was heaven. It no longer even mattered that it was heaven.

The last thing Caroline saw before flashing off at full vampire speed was the incredulous horror in her best friend's eyes.

Then again, who cared?

* * *

Stefan was gazing at his phone with intense concentration when he heard the door. His conversation had been short, but it had brought the best piece of news he'd received in a year.

"Nothing," Damon said instead of a greeting when he strolled into the room, his leather jacket drenched from the pouring rain outside; it made Stefan wonder whether his brother had run all the way from the Chesapeake. "Dead end, bro. That friend of yours needs to get her witch license renewed; whatever she saw, it wasn't Blondie. I talked to every vamp in the area, but apart from one dingbat claiming he saw the ghost of a unicorn galloping along the beaches, they're all..."

"I think I found her," Stefan interrupted, handing Damon the glass he had filled with scotch during his brother's rant. Giving a groan, Damon slumped into a chair and ran a hand through his disheveled, damp mop of hair.

"That's what you said last time. And the time before. And the time before that."

Without a word, he handed Damon his phone, watching as his brother examined the picture. It had been taken from a distance, was fuzzy and barely lit, but there could be no doubt who the blonde with the bloodstained face was.

"Looks like Blondie's giving you some competition," Damon muttered with a raised brow while zooming in for more details. Then he looked up. "Who'd you get that from, and where was it taken?"

"Remember Amaury?"

"That slumlord you were buddies with during World War II?"

Stefan couldn't help a grin. "Hey, he just wanted law and order in his territory."

"He called me a disgrace to the name of vampire and basically chased me all over the continent after I had just settled down for the first time in decades!"

"You stole his ladylove right from under his nose. What did you expect? He's French."

Damon rolled his eyes and chuckled. "He could've taken it a little more sportingly. I haven't set foot in good old Paris since then. Is that where the picture was taken?"

"Yeah. He knows almost every vamp in Europe, so I asked him a couple of months ago to keep his eyes and ears open for any signs of Caroline, just in case... _et voilà._ He apparently had his people on the lookout, and one of them finally spotted her while out on the hunt."

"So we're off to France, then. Can I at least change before we leave?"

Refilling his own glass, and Damon's, the younger Salvatore pressed his lips into a thin line and walked over to the grand windows. The skies had darkened with an even thicker layer of clouds that sent veritable cascades of rain down to Earth. In spite of the good news, the weather mirrored his mood to uncanny perfection. He had spent most of the past year searching for Caroline, and to his surprise, Damon had dropped everything to join his quest. So had Elena in the beginning, until they had jointly decided that she was to return to college and continue her studies for the time being. She still helped them on weekends and college breaks, of course, but something had changed in the dynamics of the manifold relationships in Mystic Falls, and it had not failed to leave its mark on them all. Bonnie had been long gone, Tyler was... well, Tyler, and even Matt... Their unbreakable circle no longer was what it had been, and more than once, Stefan had asked himself whether it was time for them all to truly move on. Find a new beginning. He and Damon were closer than they had been even in their human days, something Stefan was immensely grateful for. Yet for a long while now, he had felt an irresistible longing for new horizons; he wanted to rediscover who he was outside of all the Mystic Falls commotion, and he wanted to give Damon and Elena some space to do the same. But ahead of any life-changing decisions, they needed to find a means to bring Caroline back from the dark place she had chosen a year ago. A dark place all of them knew only too well.

He took a sip of his scotch. "I'm not sure there's anything the two of us can do for her."

Crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, Damon creased his forehead. "Are you drunk? Stef, we spent the better part of this past year combing the lands for Blondie, and now that we finally have a clue to her whereabouts, you want to ditch the entire operation? Sorry, but methinks my intellect can't grasp the concept."

Stefan heaved a sigh. "I've been thinking about this for a while now. Look, even if we do find her, then what? We take turns trying to talk sense into her? A year has gone by and she still," he pointed at the phone, "hasn't turned it back on. There's little I can think of that you and I, or even Elena, could say or do to convince her. No-one knows better than the two of us just how hard it is to summon the guts to turn it back on and face the music."

The older Salvatore gave his brother a probing glance. "No argument there. But I know you better than that, bro. You're not planning on giving up. So what's the deal?"

"Giving up is not an option. But we need help. Talking her into it won't work - so we'll have to _make_ her."

"Yeah, right," Damon scoffed, "and how exactly? By grounding her? Forbidding her from watching whatever the French equivalent of the Kardashians is? Sorry, dear brother mine, but short of torture I'm afraid we don't have much leverage."

The smile on Stefan's features was hesitant and even a little tense.

"Exactly. But there's someone who does."

* * *

"Niklaus! Watch out!"

Elijah's voice came from somewhere behind him at the very instant he felt the impact of the magic that smashed him into the heavy iron gate guarding St. Louis Cemetery. The little witch's powers had undoubtedly increased as of late, he mused as he rose to his feet with an inarticulate grunt, bracing for Davina's next onslaught of magic. Once more he was slammed against the iron bars, and once more, he stood within the blink of an eye. A vicious smirk curled his lips as he opened his arms and bowed to the witch.

"By all means, do carry on. I have no further plans for the evening." His sneer widened when a flicker of insecurity crossed Davina's eyes. "Listen well, witch. I have demonstrated more than my share of patience with you since my arrival in this town. I have tolerated your pathetic little rebellions, your conspiracies, your digging up and fraternizing with my every last enemy. I'm all for a good war between my kind and yours, but I do believe you should attempt to acquaint yourself with the fact that..."

Another bout of magic threatened to blast him off his feet, but this time, he felt it before it hit and managed to steel himself against the impact, thus remaining glued to the spot.

"... you won't be the last one standing, Davina," he completed his sentence, satisfied at seeing the witch's eyes widen. When he was just about to take a step forward, the girl was suddenly no longer alone. A mob of witches and warlocks flocked into the graveyard from three different sides, lining up behind Davina. Klaus saw eyes close, arms rise, lips mutter those arcane words that came from no human language. Elijah materialized at his side, scanning Davina's ranks with an expert eye before he turned his attention to his younger brother. A brief, wordless conversation ensued, at which end the siblings nodded at each other, charged - and slammed into a transparent wall that surrounded the group of witches and warlocks.

For several minutes, they attempted to penetrate the invisible barrier from all sides, trying to find a weaker spot or an opening but coming up empty. The protective wall was rock-solid. Without hurry, Klaus returned to his earlier spot near the entrance, followed by his brother who brushed nonexistent dust from the lapels of his exquisite suit. When their eyes met Davina's, a grin spread on the girl's face.

"Now what, Klaus? You can't get in, but our magic can definitely get out!" And to her high-pitched screech, a dozen pairs of hands rose into the air.

"Move," Klaus called to Elijah, "do not give them a target!"

The unequal fight waged back and forth for a long while. Both Mikaelson brothers remained in continuous motion, dashing all over the place while the witches and warlocks did what they could to curb their powers, inflict pain on them or quite simply render them unconscious. Yet as unable as Klaus and Elijah were to make it past the barrier, Davina and her troops found themselves equally incapable of mustering strength and power enough to cause serious damage. After some time, Klaus observed first signs of beginning exhaustion in the weaker witches. Many spells no longer reached beyond the barrier as their concentration faltered halfway through the incantation, and one or two of the women even dropped to their knees from sheer exertion.

"Davina," he said while taking a leisurely jump from the top of a tomb to a gravestone, "here's the thing. Elijah and I can do this for the remainder of eternity. Unlike you, we will never tire, we do not have to eat, drink or sleep, and endless supplies of blood fresh from the tap can be found right behind us on Claiborne." He smiled when another witch tumbled and fell. "Not even your powers can hold up this wall forever. You, too, will tire, and your magic with you."

Elijah, who had just flashed past him, tsked and shook his head. "It is one of the many curses of witchcraft that regardless of your undeniable powers, your dependence on human needs will be your downfall. Such a disadvantage in the merciless world of the supernatural, would you not agree?"

"Brother," Klaus scolded with an impish snicker, "are you not supposed to be the family diplomat? You are frightening the ladies... and the underrepresented gentlemen."

They grinned when they darted past each other, evading another spell. "Of course, Niklaus. Pray forgive me, Davina - we are doing all this for no other purpose than not being otherwise engaged on a Friday night. Do not mind us and just go ahead."

Silence descended upon the cemetery when Davina straightened and turned to look at her allies, signaling for them to stop just as Klaus and Elijah came to a halt in front of her, separated only by the magic barrier. "I can keep this wall in place for as long as I have to," the witch said, acid in her voice, "don't you worry about that."

"I hate to break it to you," Klaus retorted, "but you'll die eventually. So will all of them." He made a gesture that encompassed the congregation of witches. "Of dehydration, starvation and other pleasant mortal afflictions. But since I have no plans to spend the next few weeks on this graveyard, bored to death - no pun intended - and since I am also a firm believer in compromise, how about this. We will allow you to leave unharmed and in one piece in exchange for one tiny piece of information."

"I don't believe you," the witch shot back. "The instant I drop the spell, you'll kill us without a second thought. Thanks, but I think I'll pass." Approving murmurs sounded from the group that was huddling together behind Davina.

"Your doubt is hurtful," Klaus smirked. "Your life will end, that much is certain, and judging from your unhappy choice of sides in the past, it will not be long before it does. But not tonight."

"We honor a given word. When we vouch not to lay a hand on you or any of your... colleagues here, we will not do so," Elijah added in the calm, level tone he always employed when he got down to business. Although a great many centuries ago, he had explained to Klaus that it was never the words, but the wordless message that tipped the scales in one direction or the other during a negotiation, something Klaus had found confirmed time and again.

Davina folded her arms across her chest. "Your word, Elijah, I trust - to a point. His," she jerked her chin at Klaus, "not in a million years."

"Well, then our quandary should be easily solved. I give you my personal word of honor that neither Klaus nor I will harm you and your friends tonight if you agree to provide us with the information we require."

Biting her lip, the witch gazed back and forth between the siblings before looking over her shoulder. "Go," she said, "all of you. I'll keep them from following you until you're out of sight. Leave now!" Nobody moved at first. When Davina repeated her command, the first two witches began to retreat, their eyes never leaving Klaus and Elijah; a second later, they broke into a run and disappeared between the tombstones, headed for the hidden little exit in the eastern mural, as Klaus assumed. With hurried steps, the remaining witches and warlocks left the scene, supporting those too weak to walk and not looking back. He wasn't interested in any of them. They were pawns, regular witches with no exceptional abilities and of no relevance to the outcome of all this; he wondered for a moment what had possessed Davina to orchestrate this amateurish attack.

_Deflection. She knew this would lead nowhere. Something is cooking._

He fished his phone from his jacket pocket. "Marcel. Take a few men and raid all known witch spots in and around the city. Send someone out to the wolves as well." He paused to listen. "No. I'll explain later; just let me know if you see or hear anything outside of the usual let's-all-kill-Klaus brouhaha." No sooner had he ended the call and stowed his phone than Davina planted herself in front of him.

"What do you want to know?"

"It is quite simple. I want you to tell me where my dear mother is hiding, and whose body she inhabits this time. Oh, and while you're at it, you might want to disclose my brother Finn's whereabouts as well."

An array of emotions danced over the witch's face. Klaus had to remind himself of the girl's youth - she had not yet learned to omit her reactions when an arrow hit its mark. "How do you know about Esther and Finn?" she demanded, the shock still imprinted on her features.

"I didn't. You just told me, and I want to thank you for that." Out of the corner of his eye, Klaus saw Elijah stifle a smile. "You have, however, not answered my question, witch. Where are they? Your joint plan to cut the ties between me and my line and kill me in the process is admirable in its splendid theory, yet as it ever so often happens with theories, they are hard to put into practice. But I am digressing. Lead us to our... family, and you shall not be harmed tonight or anytime soon - unless, of course, you raise a hand against me or my siblings. And may I add that you will want to reconsider your association with my mother. After a thousand years of experience in the field, I can safely say that no good ever comes of it."

Davina didn't manage to reply as both brothers' heads jerked up simultaneously.

_Vampires. Right behind._

Klaus was about to take care of the unwanted intrusion when a well-known voice resounded from the iron gate.

"Seriously, buddy, you need to get a grip on those mommy issues of yours."

* * *

He didn't turn around or take his watchful eyes off Davina as he muttered to Elijah, "How is it that whenever you reach the conclusion that the day couldn't possibly get any worse, something like this happens?"

"Law of nature," his brother shrugged. "But first things first."

"Indeed." Klaus cast a sideways glance at the Salvatores who were coming up beside him, both eyeing Davina with curiosity. "Stefan, Damon. Allow me to conclude my business before I morph into the gracious host you know me to be."

Damon folded his arms and gave a lopsided grin. "Sure. It's always educational to watch the master at his day job."

With a huff of impatience, Klaus returned his attention to the witch. "As I was saying before my good mood was ultimately ruined, the choice is yours. Name my mother's hiding place, and you'll walk away from here without a bruise."

"And if I don't?"

"Then a bruise will be the least of your worries. You are young, Davina, and you are still learning, so here is a piece of advice. Never give up on your reinforcements out of sheer altruistic reasons." When she looked at him and said nothing, he added, "Those who could have helped you keep up the barrier _ad infinitum_ are gone. You are on your own. But these are not the Middle Ages, you may argue, and you carry a mobile phone to help you commandeer more friends. Very true. Only that each and every single witch or warlock who sets foot on the premises will die before their other foot touches the ground."

Realization flared up in the girl's eyes, followed by a flash of anger at herself that made Klaus give her a genuine smile. He would never admit it to anyone, but he did like the witch. She was spirited, powerful, courageous, and she would be a force to reckon with, one day, when she had learned to no longer make decisions based on sentiment. He would try to avoid killing her, if at all possible, for something in her rebellious, indomitable nature reminded him of a woman of similar spirits. A woman he had long since banned to the depths of his memories but who would never leave his soul for good. A woman whose painfully beautiful image had rushed to the forefront of his mind the second Damon Salvatore had opened his mouth.

"What is it going to be, Davina?" Elijah demanded when the silence stretched on for several minutes. "As you can see, we do have guests to entertain, and it would be impolite to keep them waiting much longer.

The witch inhaled deeply before she spoke in a slow, defeated rhythm. "I can't tell you where your mother and brother are hiding. They haven't told me. We never met in person, we only ever talked over the phone, that's all."

"Whose bodies are they using?"

"How would I know?" Davina shot back. "I have no idea what they're supposed to look like, so even if I had seen them, I couldn't say if they're using someone else's bodies."

Both Mikaelsons chuckled. "Good point," Klaus conceded. "When are you scheduled to meet them in the flesh?"

Another silence ensued. "Three days from now."

"Where?"

"The woods near Old Bay River."

He stared at the young witch for a few seconds before a broad smile curved his lips upwards. "Very well. You may go." Everyone looked at him in surprise as he pointed at the gate. "You told me what I need to know, and I am a man of my word." Davina hesitated, then glanced at Elijah who nodded and moved to the side, clearing her path to the exit. After a few more heartbeats, the girl seemed to decide she had not much to lose and began to walk, her eyes on Klaus. None of the vampires moved so much as a toe while the witch made her way out. As soon as she was behind the mural, she broke into a run.

"Elijah," Klaus merely said. His brother nodded and disappeared at full Original speed without producing a sound.

"You know she was lying," Damon pointed out as his gaze wandered back from the gate to meet Klaus'. The latter rolled his eyes.

"A little more confidence in me, if you will. How would I miss something that even you managed to grasp without my having to spell it out to you?"

"If memory serves..."

"Klaus, we really need to talk to you," Stefan interrupted the exchange of pleasantries, "is there somewhere a little more private?" The younger Salvatore's tone was stern; not that this was news, but it was clear that those two wouldn't have sought him out if matters weren't of some gravity. Giving in to his curiosity, he nodded.

"Follow me."

* * *

Minutes later, the three of them were comfortably settled in Klaus' elegantly furbished salon, drinks in hand. It occurred to him that they should sound praise for their vampire heritage; the alcohol consumption between the three of them alone would have served to give the entire population of the Quarter fatal liver failure.

"You know that I am always here to help," he began sardonically as they raised their glasses. "So what is it this time? Werewolf bites? Hunter troubles? Do tell Uncle Original your woes."

The Salvatores exchanged a glance before Stefan spoke up, uttering two words that managed to hit home more thoroughly than any news of his mother ever could. "It's Caroline."

"I am listening." Hundreds of years of training kept his voice straight and his face neutral, but it grew harder the more he heard of Stefan's story. How Sheriff Forbes had taken ill and died, how Caroline had been so grief-stricken she had seen no other way to cope than by turning off her humanity, how she had run away from Mystic Falls, and how it had taken the Salvatores a year to find the first trace of her. With every word, Klaus felt his wrath rise... and himself ache for her a little more. It was an alien sensation, and it didn't serve to soothe the emotional thunderstorm that tossed his mind and soul around like a loose autumn leaf. When Stefan fell silent, Klaus rose and began to pace the room, breathing with slow deliberation to keep himself from tearing out his visitors' hearts.

"This happened one year ago?" he demanded. When both Salvatores nodded in unison, he whirled around. His voice was deceptively soft. "And you come to me _now_? You did not think of, oh, I don't know, _notifying me the day this happened?"_

"We thought we'd find her faster," Stefan admitted. "And we weren't sure whether her fate was still... of interest to you."

_Of interest._

"You could have found out with one phone call."

Stefan took a sip of his drink. "Yeah. In hindsight, we probably should have. On a more positive note, she's alive and well." He produced a phone from his jacket and handed it to Klaus who took it with the blackest of scowls, still fighting the urge to crucify the Salvatore brothers heads down in his backyard. A couple of crosses were quickly crafted. But all thoughts and all anger vanished when his eyes fell on the grainy picture displayed on Stefan's mobile.

He found his memories hard to reconcile with the photograph that seemed to show a different woman. Her face was partly covered in blood, her silken blond strands clotted with red, and her face was... empty, devoid of emotion, of glow, of the light that had always shone from deep within her soul and that had drawn him in like a magnet time and again. For some reason, he felt cold. Caroline without her humanity was nothing short of a sacrilege; she had never truly understood the almost unbearable beauty she represented to him, inside and out. His artist's eyes could feast on her for days on end, but it was the pure, unadulterated fire of life inside her that made his pulse drum and quieted his perpetual unrest at the same time. What he had said to her on the day of her graduation had been the full truth - he intended to be her last love, someday, somehow, somewhere. She had accepted his words, but she had believed them as little as she had wanted them at the time. Then had come the infamous encounter in the woods. That first wild sex that had served no other purpose than to quell a need they had both suppressed for far too long. Had they left it at that and parted ways, things might have been different, for him and for her. Only that one deeply satisfying, magnificent fuck had led to another and another, until they had slowly morphed from having sex into making love. Caroline had shed every last ounce of pretense and been her beautiful, exuberant self, filled with laughter, passion... and tenderness. Her touch remained engraved in him to this day, and it had been that soft, erotic, lingering, tender touch that had told him what not even Caroline herself had as yet understood - that part of her believed in his words as thoroughly as he did. Not even the unrelenting force with which he had suppressed all memories of her since then had kept his determination from fortifying with each passing day: he would be her last love as she already was his. Next week, next month, in a thousand years.

Which made this new development all the more worrisome.

"Where is she?" he demanded from Stefan as he returned the phone.

"Paris."

_Rome... Paris... Tokyo?_

"Who did you get this from?"

"An old friend. His name is Amaury..."

"De Lascasse? Amaury de Lascasse?" the Original interrupted with a frown.

"The very same. You know him? Is he of your line?"

Reassuming his seat and downing his drink, Klaus said, "I do know him well. Three guesses who first made him Lord of Paris," he added while refilling his glass and pushing the bottle across the table to Damon. "He's of Elijah's line, though. Long story which I might share at some other time. I assume you have instructed him to keep his distance and leave her unharmed?"

Damon scoffed. "Hey, we're regular vamps, man, and he's a wee bit older, aka stronger. Ordering him around doesn't seem like the greatest of ideas."

Something in the older Salvatore's tone made him grin. "May I deduce that you're not to be counted among his numerous friends?"

"Conflict of interest," Damon retorted with a wink.

Dropping against the backrest of his chair, Klaus sighed. "Be that as it may, you have come to ask something of me. What is it?"

The second Caroline's name had come up, his mind had begun to scheme, yet he wanted to find out how they planned to persuade her to turn her humanity back on. He was enough of a realist to know that neither the Salvatores' preaching nor his pretty face would suffice, and singing her serenades in the pink Parisian lights was not prone to help, either. Not that he would make _that_ much of a fool of himself. His gaze fell on Stefan who shifted uncomfortably in his seat while playing with the whisky tumbler, and just as Klaus began to wonder about Damon's conspicuous silence, the younger Salvatore finally spoke.

"You're the only one with the power to make her turn it back on. You, or one of your siblings. But I thought you might prefer to handle this yourself."

The old wooden grandfather clock on the far end of the salon ticked in its ancient rhythm. Birds sang outside, street noises trickled into the room, and yet the silence was thick and complete. In slow motion, Klaus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at Stefan who returned his gaze without wavering. "You are asking me to compel her, Stefan?"

"Yes."

"The answer is no."

Surprise spread on both Salvatores' features; they exchanged a glance before Damon said cautiously, "I don't get it. Just a minute ago, you nearly tear off our heads for not telling you about Caroline earlier, and now you don't want to help her?"

"And you claim to be her friends, but without even considering other options, your sole proposition to solve this dilemma is compulsion." It piqued him. Stefan and Damon knew Caroline well enough to be aware that compulsion didn't sit well with her. She had never told him so in too many words, yet even he who had spent much less time in her company than either of those two knew of Caroline's deep-seated abhorrence, although he remained ignorant of its roots.

Stefan opened his hands. "You've been around for a while, Klaus. What other possibilities are there? We're not Originals, and talking a vampire into turning his humanity off or back on is impossible if the vamp in question won't cooperate. One way or the other - will you help us or not?"

Closing his eyes for a moment, Klaus thought of all those big and small problems he was currently facing in New Orleans. The new looming threat his mother represented. Finn, who could be counted on to side with Esther and should never be underestimated. Marcel, who was lurking in the shadows of feigned friendship and obedience, waiting for an opportunity to strike and recover what he considered his. Elijah, whom he had only just found again after so many centuries of lingering rifts and misunderstandings. There was no way in hell he could leave the Quarter at a time like this. And there was even less of a way in hell that he would not put Caroline ahead of everything else. Within the blink of an eye, his phone was at his ear.

"Elijah. Did you follow her?"

"_Yes. She returned straight to her apartment and hasn't emerged since, but she has phoned an eclectic number of people, among them our brother dear. It was his voice without a doubt, hence it is well possible that they returned in their own bodies. What is your plan?"_

"I have to leave town for a while."

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"I will call you later and explain. For now, this is what I need you to do. You will have around-the-clock surveillance on Davina and every witch in the Quarter and the bayous. She said her next meeting with Esther is to take place in three days, which leads me to believe it will happen within twenty-four hours maximum. Do we know whether Rebekah is in the country?"

"_Yes. She called me from Boston this morning."_

"Phone her back and tell her to come down here at once. The Fabulous Baker Boys will stay as well." His lips twitched when both Salvatores jerked up and shook their heads in perfect synchronization. "Listen, brother, I trust you to handle the situation. Once you find Esther and Finn, take them down, but do not kill them. Mere death will not stop them from returning at their leisure, which is why we will need to find another solution. Take them to The Garden and lock them up until my return, Davina and everyone siding with them included."

"_Niklaus, what is going on? Of course I can handle things, but would you not agree that this is a tad more important than whatever goes on in Mystic Falls?"_

"Later," Klaus muttered before he added, "Thank you, Elijah."

After breaking the connection, he rose and pocketed his phone. "Was there anything else?" he said, looking at the Salvatore brothers who had also risen from their seats. Stefan took a few steps in his direction, his face as unreadable as his voice was determined.

"We're flying to Paris with you, Klaus."

He was already halfway through the doors when he turned and pursed his lips as he scrutinized the siblings that had given him so much grief during his time in Mystic Falls. Neither of them was his enemy any longer, a development that still baffled him somehow, but he would face Caroline alone, and if that involved snapping Stefan's and Damon's necks, so be it. "You will both stay here and help my brother, particularly given that you would have nothing to contribute but the innovative idea of compulsion."

"And of course Big Bad has a much better suggestion," Damon scoffed. "Would you mind sharing this new pearl of your endless wisdom?"

A broad grin spread on Klaus' face as he tilted his head to one side. "I am old-fashioned, Damon. I work with time-proven methods." He winked. "Extortion and barter."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, just wow - I can't believe how many of you still remember me after all this time - best Valentine's present ever! :)**

**A big, fat THANKS to all who've taken the time to review, follow, favorite, send PMs, or quite simply read. The response I received just for this first chapter was overwhelming! I really, honestly, wholeheartedly wish I had the time to turn this into a big story (or write a sequel to Dungeons and Sanctuaries).**

**Anyway, what the first chapter lacked in Klaus/Caroline interaction, the next few should make up for. I hope you'll like today's update, and once again, thank you all so very much for your amazing support!**

**Love you guys! :)**

**Sybille**

* * *

Her eyes shallow blue puddles of indifference, Caroline wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, not sparing the lifeless body at her feet so much as a second glance when she stepped over him. After pulling up the zipper of her leather jacket that had somehow come undone during her little escapade, she fished a tissue from one pocket and began to rub the blood off her hands while heading towards the exit at human speed.

The cemetery of Père-Lachaise, Paris' largest and most famous burial ground, was becoming a bit of a home turf to her. Not a grave she couldn't put a name to, not a pebble she couldn't place; even with her eyes closed, she made her way along the intricate maze of pathways with more confidence than any gardener working the place for years. And she had only been working it for a couple of months.

This month marked the first anniversary of her disappearance from Mystic Falls. With the idle detachment she had come to cherish - as far as cherishing went these days - she recalled how she had raced through the woods a year ago and the thought of New Orleans had flitted through her mind for the duration of one absurd moment. She had dismissed the idea as quickly as it had struck. Her first destination had been New York instead, but to her own mild surprise, even her humanity-devoid self hadn't found it as appealing as she had anticipated. Not that appeal mattered, but she had still moved on; for reasons she had never cared to investigate, she had found her way to Paris. And she liked it here. The city was easy on the eyes, and most importantly, the blood never stopped flowing. She would be staying for a while, and she had not decided whether to move on at all. This place, another... she had no plans, no goals, no needs.

Still dabbing at her bloodstained fingers, she reached the southernmost exit leading to Rue de la Réunion, a quaint, residential side street. She tended to avoid the livelier main entrance, even at this time of night; freedom, independence and privacy counted among the few things that still mattered to her. One leap took her to the top of the wall, and after scanning the area and finding it devoid of nightly strollers, she jumped onto the sidewalk, directing her steps down the narrow road towards the larger Rue de Bagnolet.

"Hello, Caroline."

She froze mid-walk, nearly tumbling over her own feet. The sound had come from behind her, two, maybe three yards back. A voice she had last heard almost two years ago, in the forest near Mystic Falls. A voice she had never expected or wanted to hear again. In an atypical, frantic rush, she assessed the little pinch in the depths of her system - no, it was nothing. He had merely taken her by surprise, and it annoyed her that she hadn't seen him or sensed vampire presence. Her insides were as dead as they had been for the past year. All was well.

No longer in a hurry, she turned on her heel, ignoring another pinch of what was certainly annoyance at the sight of him. "Klaus. Now isn't that a surprise. What brings you to town?"

His glare was something she remembered well, only that she couldn't name any occasion that had seen it directed at her. Well, it made no difference either way, not even when Klaus took a firm step towards her. "What brings me here is a cleaning job, love." Jerking his thumb over his shoulder, he lifted a brow. "Were you planning on leaving him there as a present to cemetery staff?"

"What do you care?"

"Caroline," he sighed, exasperation in his tone, "you have spent the past year not caring. Allow me to do it for you." There was a brief pause as his dark glower softened; he raised a hand when she started to speak. "I advise you to listen closely, for I will only say this once. You and I will return to the cemetery and dispose of the body you chose to leave on as prominent a display as possible. Once done, we will have a little conversation about that blatantly obvious death wish of yours."

With a frown the depth of the Grand Canyon, she shook her head. "If you're so keen on doing the cleaning-up, be my guest. I don't give a damn, and I'm definitely not spending my night digging graves. I'm curious, though - what on earth makes you think I have a death wish?"

She hadn't seen him move. Without a warning, his hand was on her arm, his fingers closing around it. Caroline felt another sting, more powerful this time, and tried to wrestle out of the steel grip she dimly remembered from a time long gone. Klaus started to walk, dragging her along, a wordless demonstration of the futility of her endeavor. If he didn't want her to escape, she wouldn't. It was as simple as that, so she decided to play along. The quicker they were done, the sooner he would leave her alone. When they reached the wall, he released her arm and silently pointed upward. Caroline shrugged and leaped, landing on the other side a second later, followed by Klaus whose fingers found her arm as soon as their feet touched the ground. Yanking her with him, he followed the path she had taken earlier, a little alley that led to the crematorium where she had left the remains of her late supper.

"This city, love, is one of the world's largest and most ancient vampire hotspots in the world. What New Orleans is to me today, Paris was over many centuries, and I will always have fond memories of the years I spent here."

"A touching story, Klaus, it really is," she interjected, rolling her eyes, "but you might want to dump it on someone who's actually interested in it. Or you."

"What makes Paris such a supernatural success story," he went on, paying no attention whatsoever to her snide comment, "is the iron fist ruling it. Said iron fist belongs to an old acquaintance of mine by the name of Amaury."

Caroline tried once more to jerk her arm from his grip before giving up and letting herself be pulled along without further resistance. "Is that name supposed to mean anything to me?"

"It should, if only for the reason that you managed to appear on his radar, and not in a positive way." Klaus' fingers seemed to tighten around her arm, but it might as well have been nothing. "I do suppose I must give you credit for evading his attention over the past few months; your head would otherwise no longer be on your shoulders. And here is where it gets dicey. Rogue vampires always represent a liability, but even more so in places with a sizeable supernatural community. I eliminate them in New Orleans as thoroughly as Amaury eliminates them over here. It is not merely a question of authority, it is first and foremost a matter of safety for the vampire population. And you, my dearest Caroline, have somehow managed to turn yourself into the textbook case of a rogue vampire. Hence my death wish assumption."

Scrutinizing her emotions again, she found nothing. Her voice as even and level as her entire system, she gave a nod. "And you've come to do the dirty work for your French buddy, for old times' sake, is that what you're telling me?"

"Do not be absurd." A flicker of humor colored his tone. "Kill you after that glorious way you moaned my name when you came? Do you really _still _think that low of me?"

The continuous little pinches in her abdomen began to irk her. "I don't think of you at all. So if you're not here to rip off my head, why don't you let that Amaury guy get on with it instead of lecturing me into oblivion?"

"Call me a hopeless romantic, but when I plan on being someone's last love, I develop an aversion against her impending extermination - or lifelong incarceration."

She halted, forcing him to stop and turn around. "Klaus, you and I hooked up once, which cured me from an idiotic fantasy and should have cured you from what we both know was nothing but a moment of delusion. You've been around for a while - you should know even better than I do that love doesn't exist. It's a biochemical reaction to another biochemical process, so please spare me the drivel and tell me why you're really here."

Klaus' right hand clutched her other arm, pulling her closer until nothing but an inch of heated air sizzled between their faces. "I am here because one year of suppressing your grief is one too many. I am here because I will not see you throw your life away over your inability to deal with your emotions." His lips grazed the corner of her mouth. "I am here because you, mademoiselle, will switch your bloody humanity back on, and with it, your light."

* * *

With eagle eyes, Klaus watched her face for even the tiniest hint at a reaction. A quiver in her lips, a widening of her irises, a flaring of her nostrils - anything would have satisfied him. His disappointment was real and massive when she retreated from their silent exchange with a moue of indifference. In less than a heartbeat, he regained control of himself. From the moment he had seen her face in the picture, he had known this wasn't going to be a walk in the park, and so he buried the maelstrom of feelings that had gripped him at his first sight of her. Her face was still beautiful beyond words, but it had become the sterile beauty of a great classic sculpture of white marble. Ethereal, translucent, cold.

"Turn it back on, huh?" she suddenly said, her voice snide. "Wanna bet?"

"In a manner of speaking. I came to offer you a deal."

"I'm not interested."

"Oh, I think you will be."

She folded her arms across her chest and snickered. "Let me guess. A ride on that magnificent dick of yours, and my heart will be touched so deeply it'll make me turn it back on immediately?"

Klaus returned her grin with genuine amusement. "I give you extra points for praising my magnificence, but that was not quite what I had in mind. Although I do like the idea and would of course be most happy to oblige," he added with a mock bow that made her lips twitch in a nondescript smile. "But as I am afraid that even my _formidable_ amorous qualities won't suffice to persuade you, I have another proposition entirely."

Her impatient sigh resounded from the wall next to which they were standing. "Am I correct in assuming you won't leave me in peace until I listen to you?"

"Indeed. So here is what will happen, love. You will switch your humanity back on. Hear me out," he said when she attempted to speak. "You will switch it back on for a period of twenty-four hours exactly. Should you, after that one day, still wish to return to... this," he gestured at her, "I will not stop you, and I give you my word that neither I nor anyone else will ever bother you again."

Caroline made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. "That sounds all swell and dandy, but you forget that I don't have any reason to play ball with you."

"Wrong. I failed to mention that, should you not agree, you have two options to choose from. One, I will hand you over to Amaury. You do recall the vampires' tomb beneath Fell's Church? Well, Amaury has something very similar, although it does admittedly far exceed Mystic Falls in style, located beneath the Hôtel des Invalides. Ah, the old continent... makes me all sentimental." With a light snicker, he went on. "Anyway, that is your first option - rotting away in a gaol with no chance at freedom until you come to your senses. Option two is much simpler and far less painful. It is called compulsion."

"You're bluffing. You said it yourself - you would never hurt me." Her lips curved into a crooked smile that, once again, held no warmth. "But nice try, Klaus. Can I go now?"

This time, the grin that split his face was broad and full. "A valid statement. It has only one flaw - neither incarceration nor compulsion would cause you genuine pain, and you should know me better than to believe I will not use any means necessary to gain my ends. Well?" Clutching his hands behind his back, he waited, his face and posture the picture of calm serenity. If she continued to call his bluff, he would need to do what he had hoped to avoid and have Amaury lock her up in his ancient gaol for a day or two. Klaus had not set foot in the place for more than a century, although his memories of it were vivid. The thought of Caroline imprisoned in the stygian bowels of Paris, languishing among hordes of lost vampires that hadn't seen the surface in several hundred years was beyond disconcerting, but he would need to take it into serious consideration if she...

"Fine. You win. Twenty-four hours, and after that, I'll never have to see you again."

His eyes narrowed. This had been a bit too easy; he would need to be on his guard. "Very well." Without another word, he turned and resumed his walk to the crematorium, hearing her fall into step behind him. Three bends later, the building came into sight; on the little square before it, a mortal body was spread out, a small pool of coagulating blood next to it, shimmering black in the milky moonlight. Coming to a halt next to the man's nearly severed head, Klaus gave him a fleeting glance and tsked. "Sloppy. One would think you have learned some table manners by now." Before she could snap at him, he got hold of the corpse and threw it over his shoulder. Then he pointed to the ground. "Clean this up. I want to see no drop of blood. What is more, I want to see you in this exact spot when I return. Do trust me on this, love - if you're not here when I get back, you will, for the first time since you turned it off, wish you had never been born."

For sheer effect, he conjured his Hybrid face before turning on his heel and sauntering towards the entrance to the crematorium.

"Now what?" Caroline demanded when he rejoined her a few minutes later, empty-handed. The spotlessly clean ground pulled a little smirk from him.

"Who would have guessed - you _can _do as you're told. I always had my doubts on that account." She gave him a derisive snort, making his smirk widen. "Let me explain what will happen during these upcoming twenty-two hours. You will not leave my side, not for as much as thirty seconds, and you'll do as I say in all matters."

He had expected many responses. This one, not so much.

Within less than a second, Caroline's lips were on his. Her hands sneaked underneath his jacket and shirt, finding his bare skin and taking possession of it with cold-blooded determination. Klaus couldn't stop his lips from parting with the small gasp that escaped him at the long-missed touch, and when her tongue met his, he yanked her against him, forgetting who and where he was and what he was doing there. His Caroline, his _love_, was back in his arms where she belonged, and it was all that mattered. She kissed him with the wild aggression of a lioness, hard and demanding, while her hands shoved both his jacket and shirt off his shoulders. In the midst of another mind-numbing kiss, she snatched his hands and guided them to her breasts. His low, needy moan was more of a growl when his fingers slipped into the cups of her bra and freed those soft, beautiful breasts he hadn't been able to get enough of that day in Mystic Falls. It was all it took to turn him hard as granite. Oh, how well he remembered her fragrant skin, her taste, her sinuous movements under his hands...

_Wait a minute._

He had her arms trapped behind her back in a heartbeat. Her breathing was as labored as his own, and his lips were still on hers when he whispered, "Chapeau, love. Impressive tactics, but you used to be better at the diversion game."

"What gave me away?" she asked evenly and with only a hint of sarcasm. There could be no denying her complete and utter arousal and her body's reaction to his, but it ended right there. The fire in her eyes, the elation on her face, the wonder at her own ardent response to him - everything that had caught his soul by storm back in the woods was notably absent. Klaus receded, albeit not without breathing a last, soft kiss on her cheek, and shrugged back into his jacket, rolling his eyes at his torn shirt. The corners of his mouth curved upwards as he took in her dispassionate face.

"What gave you away is that on previous occasions, you had an actual desire to distract me. Not so tonight."

"Yeah, for the simple reason that I don't give a damn."

"If you say so." He jerked his head in the general direction of the exit. "Let's go."

Caroline didn't move an inch, giving him a bored glance. "I thought you wanted me to turn it back on. Do you plan on having me do that in the middle of the Champs-Elysées?"

"Not quite."

* * *

The Parc Monceau was quiet and abandoned at this time of the night. Klaus had inconspicuously scanned his surroundings as soon as they had jumped the intricately wrought iron fence with its golden tips, and motioned for Caroline to follow him deeper into the ancient park that, for once, seemed free of nightly prowlers. Arguably one of Paris's most enchanting parks by the light of day, its atmosphere at night was further enriched by the shadows of weeping willows, the faint glow of distant street lamps and the reflection of the old colonnades in the murky waters of the little pond that formed the diminutive park's center point. Even in its early years, around 1796, when it had been built as the Duc de Chartres' private garden and its trees and plants had still been young, Monceau had possessed a special allure, yet whilst Klaus had never quite lost his penchant for theses gardens, they had become a tad too lively during daytime as of late. Thus he only ever visited them at night when some of their old magic still seemed to glimmer through the Parisian semidarkness.

"Seriously," Caroline muttered, her voice mildly annoyed when they arrived at the rim of the pond, next to the colonnades, "can't we just get this over with and leave out the would-be romantic crap?"

"Believe me, love - when I harbor romantic intentions, you'll notice." He closed his eyes for a split second, once again ascertaining that he hadn't overlooked any signs of human or supernatural presence. There were none. Glancing at his watch, he said, "One o'clock exactly. Twenty-four hours. Turn it back on, Caroline."

The lack of ceremonial fuss seemed to disconcert her. "Why are we here?" she demanded, taking a deliberate look around before her eyes came to rest on him again.

"Because. Stop stalling and do as I say."

For a long, tense moment, they stared at each other. Then Caroline huffed and took a step back, coming dangerously close to the fringes of the water, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she tossed him a dark glare and clenched her teeth. Her eyelids drooped. She took a deep breath as if to prepare herself, and froze. A visible shudder coursed through her entire body, making her sway and almost double over before she recovered her balance and stood stock-still. Her face contorted in an expression of agony so painful to watch that Klaus had to summon all of his considerable self control to resist the temptation to yank her into his arms and rock her like a child. Then her eyes flew open. Tears shimmered in them as they found his face.

"Can you... can you hold me, Klaus? Please?"

She covered her face with her hands and began to cry, loud, desperate sobs that echoed through the quiet gardens and seemed to linger in the air. Klaus didn't think twice as moved towards her, feeling as if dozens of little poisoned arrows had been shot at him at the sight of her delicate frame being rattled by her crying. He was just about to pull her close when his eyes narrowed. For the duration of a few heartbeats, he scrutinized Caroline closely - and for the second time that night, he was torn between the urge to applaud and the desire to spend the upcoming hours shouting at her.

"Once more, kudos, love. Your performance is improving, I have to give you that." With his next step, he was in front of her and pulled her hands from her face. "I do love you, Caroline, but the third time you attempt to fool me like this will see you thrown into Amaury's dungeon once and for all. I will call off our deal and leave you to wither in those pits until I decide otherwise, and considering my unhappy tendency to bear grudges for an exceedingly long time, that can be a while." When she gave him a quizzical glance, he sighed and said, "Caroline Forbes' first words to me after regaining her humanity would never be C_an you hold me_."

Giving him a little shove, she walked past him with a frustrated groan. "Okay. Let's go see that dungeon. Or rather, why don't you just compel me right here and right now? The prospect of having to spend the next twenty-four hours with you is depressing enough as it is, but having to do it with my humanity switched on is maximum penalty!"

"Do I recall something about your covering our connection with hostility?" he chuckled. "Not to worry, love. We're far from Mystic Falls, and I will never tell anyone of your moments of civility in my presence."

She shrugged. "Whatever. Either way, I'm not turning my humanity back on. Go ahead and lock me up."

"Your wish is my command." With a mock flourish, he gestured at the narrow path leading to the fence while fishing his phone from his pocket. "Shall we?" Caroline made no move as he dialed and lifted the phone to his ear, flashing his brightest smile.

"Amaury, _mon cher_, how are you on this fine evening?"

_"I am well, merci, mon ami. Did you find the rogue?"_

"Indeed. She is with me now, and we are headed your way. I appreciate your making space for her."

_"You are among my oldest friends - there can be no debt and no gratitude between us, Klaus. My home is your home, and my jail is your jail."_

They chuckled companionably. Out of the corner of his eye, Klaus observed a flicker cross Caroline's face, and it was all he could do to stifle a satisfied smile. She began to believe him, it appeared, and the prospect of prison did not appeal to her. With or without humanity, there was one thing all vampires dreaded - incarceration. Loss of freedom, desiccation without the possibility to ever truly die. Watch one's body wither away and fall into paralysis while the mind remained as fully functional as ever. It was hell, nothing more, nothing less.

"We should be there in under five minutes. Is your champagne cellar as well-stocked as it used to be?"

_"Depend upon it. Once we have disposed of that rogue, we shall return to my residence and toast the old glory days."_

"Fantastic. I shall see you in... hold on a moment, will you?" Caroline had approached him with hesitant steps. No more than a foot away now, she examined his face thoroughly, searching for cues to his true intentions. "Have you changed your mind, love? Is it going to be compulsion, then?"

When she spoke this time, the conceited tone had vanished from her voice. "Why are you doing this, Klaus?"

"I do not think I need to repeat myself on that account," he retorted, conscious of Amaury on the other end of the line. "And you are beginning to try my patience, Caroline. You have five more seconds to decide, or by all the gods, I will make your decision for you. Five. Four. Three. Two. O..."

"Fine!" she snapped, and he would be damned, but he was certain to just have seen a fragment of emotion on her features. "I accept your stupid deal. But don't think for one second that you won this, Klaus. Not for _one_ second."

Concealing his alleviation at how she hadn't called either of his bluffs - thus relieving him of the necessity to find a workaround - Klaus murmured, "It might sound absurd, but the objective of everything is not always winning." He lifted his phone again. "Amaury, we need another while here. I will ring you later."

_"Take your time and let me know should you need anything."_

When the call ended, Klaus pocketed his phone and folded his arms across his chest. He said nothing, merely looked at her, waiting. And bit by bit, her stance relaxed and the tension left her shoulders. "Twenty-four hours. Not a second longer."

"Twenty-five. I have until two tomorrow morning. That's for attempting to deceive me twice," he shrugged.

"I hate you."

"I can live with that."

A vicious smile appeared on her face. "No. You can't."

His own smile was no less wicked. "And you don't hate me."

"I will in a moment."

Before he could say another word, she closed her eyes.

* * *

_I'll kill him. I'll kill him. I'll..._

Caroline's every thought disappeared from one heartbeat to the next. Where she had detachedly considered the most effective method to get rid of Klaus and stop him from interfering with her life the way he did, she fell into a second-long gap of pleasant nothingness. There were no thoughts and no emotions, just a comfortable, dull vacuum. And that was when it started.

She was hit by a colossal fist, run over by a train, buried by an avalanche. The invisible switch that had kept her from feeling anything over the past twelve months was reversed with a bang, and it seemed like every single emotion she had not felt during that time crashed down on her. All of a sudden, her insides were millions of raw nerve ends exposed to a dozen hellfires they couldn't hope to overcome. Her Mom was dead. She had fled from Mystic Falls. She of all people had turned off her humanity, only to end up here in the midst of Paris with...

Her eyes flew open the same instant her hands covered her mouth to suppress the outcry that threatened to escape when the most terrifying realization hit home. She stared at Klaus who stood a couple of yards away, watching her evenly but with close attention.

"I killed him. I killed that man tonight for nothing but... and a couple of weeks ago, I... and before that... oh my God!"

Without a warning, she dashed off. Tears filled her eyes as she ran as fast as she could, chased by the calamitous attack of guilt that pushed every other thought aside and even overshadowed the no less monumental grief for her mother. She was a murderer, a soulless monster...

_People who do terrible things are just terrible people._

Hadn't she learned that lesson the hard way? Then how could she of all people have succumbed to this darkness, humanity or no humanity? This wasn't her! This creature that had killed random mortals for sheer appetite... this was exactly what her Mom and Dad had hated enough to choose death over becoming! And this was what she, Caroline, had nonetheless elected to turn into. She had betrayed Liz's trust, her legacy, by setting her mother's last words at naught and...

A very strong hand appeared out of thin air and forced her to stop. Klaus' uncommonly calm face appeared before her the very second he had placed his hands on both of her shoulders; his steel grip didn't allow her to move as much as an inch.

"Caroline," his quiet voice sounded through the banshee howls echoing through her head, "no matter how fast you run, it will never be fast enough to escape your demons, trust the expert. Now, whilst I am perfectly fine with spending the coming hours racing all across Paris, I would consider it counterproductive."

"I don't give a shit about what you do or don't think! You made me do this, so deal with the consequences. Let go of me, Klaus, or I swear they'll hear me scream at the South Pole."

"Suit yourself, love."

He had barely finished the sentence when Caroline screeched at the top of her lungs. Her high-pitched scream resounded from the walls of the nearby houses, shrill and loud. After a few seconds, lights flared in a number of buildings, windows were thrown open, and even a couple of dogs barked somewhere in the distance. She heard someone call for the police, and a woman's voice exclaimed, _"Viol!"_. Rape. Klaus remained entirely unperturbed in the face of all the noise and commotion. He had not let go of her shoulders and watched her with lifted brows, a tiny gleam in his eyes. As a matter of principle, Caroline kept screaming for another two seconds before she finally stopped to catch her breath. The sounds around them began to die down as well, morphing into a few instances of peculiar, thick silence before she registered the distant wail of sirens. Someone had indeed called the police.

"Feeling better?" Klaus inquired, but he didn't give her time to answer. "I thought not. Considering the half dozen police cars about to arrive, I suggest we change locations and avoid time-consuming compulsion of the French authorities." Again he did not wait for her to speak, but this time she withstood his attempt to drag her with him. Her befuddled mind was yelling at her to say what her insides were incessantly yowling. It was screaming at her to just shut up and run. To say it. To beg him for it. Amid all the pain and epic confusion, she couldn't decide what was right, and before she knew it, the words were out.

"Let me turn it back off. _Please._"

Klaus shook his head. "One day, Caroline. If you still want to switch off by then, I will let you. You have my word."

"I can't deal with this, okay?" She could hear the shameful despair in her own voice as she yearned with all her heart to escape back to where everything had been so easy and meaningless.

"Of course you can," he replied curtly with his lids half-closed, focusing on the sirens. "Come on. They will be here any minute, and we need some privacy."

Through the black, raging storms, a new emotion slithered into her consciousness, one she couldn't and wouldn't acknowledge and that made her lash out like a viper. "I should've guessed what this all comes down to. I made you promise never to come back, and now you found the perfect opportunity to circumvent that and try for round two, right? God, you're so disgusting, Klaus, I can't even..."

The way his features froze at her words made her break off mid-sentence. Faster than her eyes could follow, he gripped the lapels of her jacket and brought her face to his; unlike all other times she had been this close to him, there was nothing remotely seductive about it. "Many things can be blamed on post-return disorientation after a vampire switches his humanity back on, but no degree of confusion justifies not using your brains, love. I won't even deign this nonsense with a response." He paused. The alarm horns seemed to be right around the corner. "Will you use your own two feet or do I have to carry you?"

Caroline pressed the heels of her hands against her temples and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to contain the irrational urge to claw her nails into his face. "Where to?" she spat between clenched teeth.

He considered for a moment, then made his choice. "Sacre Coeur. The bell tower. Lead on, I will follow."

She knew the way; the incredible, bright white cathedral had been one of her regular haunts these past months. Although she had never been inside or on the bell tower, she dimly remembered sitting in front of the church for hours at a time, staring at the view, feeling nothing. Well, the latter would certainly not be an issue tonight. Biting down a sharp riposte, Caroline straightened, balled her hands into fists and fought down the new tidal wave of suffering that threatened to incapacitate her. She didn't spare Klaus another glance before she whirled around and began to run with everything she had.

The basilica was just short of two miles away; they arrived in no time and, protected by the night, climbed about three quarters of the bell tower's 260 feet until they reached a platform encased by four semi-circular arches. Klaus chose the one facing south and sat right at the tower's edge, leaning casually against the wall to his left, one leg bent, the other dangling almost 200 feet above the ground. When Caroline made no move to sit down, he jerked his chin at the space next to him.

"Tempting as it may be, I have no intention to bite you." She remained immobile, staring down at him, aware that he could read her fury and every last bit of the inner pandemonium on her face. After another couple of seconds, he shrugged. "Very well. Do as you please." Returning her wild, flickering gaze with easy nonchalance, he let his head drop back against the wall and said very softly, "Face your demons, love."

Sheer panic flashed through every fiber of her being at the thought of relinquishing what little hold she had on herself. "Forget it! I agreed to stay at your side for twenty-four hours, but there was no mention of therapy sessions!"

Klaus' eyes wandered from her to the grandiose view of the City of Lights glittering at their feet. "I said nothing of therapy. I told you to face your demons, and I don't care how you do it. Scream, cry, recite your Miss Mystic speech, strike me, laugh, stay silent... it is all the same to me. As long as you confront yourself."

"Something in the New Orleans air really doesn't agree with you," she shot back, frantically searching for an escape. Maybe if she had the element of surprise on her side and jumped before he...

"Don't even think about it," he cut into her tangled musings, "you would be sorry, Caroline. I mean it." His eyes returned from the panorama to meet hers, some deep, unnamed emotion bringing them to almost glow in the semidarkness. "Why did you turn off your humanity a year ago?"

_I love you, Mom. I love you like crazy._

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad. Why did you turn it off?"

She took a menacing step in his direction. "Stop it, or I'll... I'll..."

"Why did you turn it off?"

"Leave me alone, for fuck's sake! You're nothing but a liar whose word isn't worth the air he breathes saying it! You promised never to come back, and yet here you are, being the greatest damned pest on this Earth, as usual! I've always cursed the moment I met you, but I never thought I'd come to hate you even more than I already did!" Her voice had risen with each word, growing louder and reaching ever new levels of hysteria until it nearly cracked from the thick ball of emotions she was on the verge of losing control over.

"Why did you turn it off?"

His silken, almost tender tone finally did it.

Everything inside Caroline exploded. With a cry of rage and despair that came from the very depths of her soul, she lunged at Klaus. Her fists rained down on him as her fangs elongated and black veins appeared beneath her burning eyes. There was no more control, no rationality and no reality as some deep-seated instinct took over... and she was completely helpless against it. She attacked him with fists, legs, teeth, anything, trying to make him feel the pain she could not bear. She couldn't understand her own voice between cries and sobs.

"Because she left me! Because I lost the only person in the world who loved me! _Because she told me to be strong and I wasn't_!"

A remote portion of her brain registered that Klaus didn't hold her back, nor did he defend himself in any way. He endured her siege without moving or speaking a word, but it was all the same to her. Nothing was left in her universe but this wild, uncontrolled despair at the memories of her last day with her Mom, of the weakness that had gripped her with an iron fist, and of how her life had shown her no more horizons or tomorrows. Mixing into all those long-suppressed emotions that surfaced with a brutal vengeance was a feeling of shame over what she had done, over not having possessed the fortitude to believe in her Mom's words and choosing the easy way out instead. She had not been Caroline that day, nor had she been since. She was everything she had vowed never to become.

Not on her life could she stop herself from attacking. Again and again. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into more minutes... she wasn't able to say how long it lasted. Minutes, hours... who knew? Who cared? But even the most consuming of breakdowns couldn't last forever, and gradually, the viciousness went out of her onslaught just as the force of her kicks and punches faded. Although she felt no physical exhaustion, Caroline suddenly sensed a leaden fatigue settle into every bone of her body, as if her entire system had been running on overdrive for a century.

_Too much. Just too much._

With one final, broken sob, she retreated from Klaus, sagged to her knees without looking at him and curled into a ball on the cold, ancient stones of the bell tower of Sacre Coeur.

Only the fringes of her senses processed how Klaus lifted her from the ground and gathered her on his lap, his powerful arms cradling her securely against his chest.

Only a remote portion of her heart and soul felt the soft whisper of his lips on her forehead.

"I hate you," she mumbled into his shirt, her voice slurred and barely audible.

His quiet chuckle accompanied her into the consoling realm of unconsciousness.

"I can live with that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Dearies, I really wish I had enough of a command of the English language to find three dozen different ways of expressing my gratitude for all of your lovely comments. It will never, _never_, cease to amaze me how generous you all are with me. I remember that ****I couldn't sleep all night out of sheer nervousness ****after posting the first few chapters of Dungeons, and to this day I still have butterflies in my stomach whenever I add a new chapter to any story. But what's most important, absolutely nothing makes me smile like your reviews and PMs (****aside from the idea of a buck naked Tom Hiddleston, of course).  
**

**Once again, thank you so very much. Each and every one of you: hazyhalcion, SarahCullen4, RubyRav3n, InNeedOfMore, Submissives-R-Us, rebbecca1, Dillan, eveli, goldenhummingbird, justine (oui, je lis le F****rançais - merci mille fois! :)), Hazel21, Sarisol, flipped, MsCindz, Venus88, shes-guilty-by-design, littlemsstrawberry, maevelin, Justanotherfiveminutes, ashlytorres24, marina, ConsortYana, MissTranquility, Dreaserrano, Kjsana, SweetyK, Jewelz1642, Angelikah, Ellavm18, Nigerian girl, bohemiansugar, red05, clara234, Tilly-Luv, anahita, CKhybrid, Lawsy89, Lynnevampire, caritobear, Klarolineblossom, PinkTrinityRose12, Sarine77, Uppity Bitch, HotHybridSex, all Guest reviewers and everyone who followed/faved. Hope I didn't miss anyone!  
**

**Oh, and a special shoutout to flipped for giving me a bloody laughing fit during a meeting (okay, my bad for reading review notifications in the midst of dramatic discussions about market share and revenue performance). I'll consider your proposal! ;))**

**I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter. A fantastic Sunday to you all - I'm about to board a plane for a biz trip (off to the deep-frozen part of the U.S.) and wanted to upload this before I leave. Next update might need a few days, as I'm not happy with Chapter 4...  
**

**Much love,**

**Sybille**

* * *

Caroline's eyes opened to a picture straight out of a Disney movie.

Orange-golden light crept over the distant horizon, sending its rays of early morning light into the ocean of houses and streets like dozens of slim, colored rivers that painted everything they touched in a light no artist could ever hope to capture. In a slow dance, the sunrise transformed Paris from a glinting, mysterious creature of the night into a vivacious lady ready to welcome the day. Caroline watched, transfixed, how the colors changed by the minute. The quarter of Montmartre, right at her feet, was still bathed in the remainders of dawn's ghostly blue that faded into light purple, and from there, into the fiery gold that conquered every inch of the ancient city. She had never seen anything quite like it. Her lips curved into a smile of wonder at the radiance of this new morning, and she snuggled deeper into the comfort that surrounded her. Just a little longer before she had to get up, she told herself. Only a couple more minutes of this panorama and the feeling of warmth and safety before...

_Oh my God!_

She was huddled up in Klaus' lap, her head on his chest, her arms slung tightly around him - and he was holding her as if his life depended on it. His cheek rested on her hair, his breathing was quiet and regular, but something told her he wasn't asleep. Squeezing her eyes shut for only one more second, she let herself savor what she knew she mustn't enjoy.

And then, out of the clear Parisian skies, it all returned.

Klaus. The cemetery. The deal. Her humanity. The _pain._ Her breakdown.

In the blink of an eye, she was out of his arms and back on her feet. "I hope you're happy," she hissed, ignoring the blissful gleam of contentment in his eyes that sent an additional stab through her.

"In ways you cannot begin to imagine," he deadpanned before rising to his feet. "Good morning, love. You talk in your sleep."

A surge of embarrassment momentarily superseded the nagging pain that, while less acute than the previous night, was still holding her entire being hostage. "Let me guess. I said _I hate you_ on infinite loop?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what was it?"

His grin was positively sly. "I will tell you some other time. You would not take it well today."

"Tell me!" she demanded, hands on her hips. What on earth had she said that made him look like the Cheshire Cat?

"Not a chance. Besides, I am hungry. Do you have any special preferences for breakfast?"

Caroline gaped at him, momentarily at a loss for words. He was nuts! She had just turned her humanity back on after a year, attacked him like a harpy, was going from one emotional wringer to the next - and he was thinking about food? "Klaus, I'm really not sure if you've seen too many episodes of The Love Boat, but this is not how it works."

"How what works?"

"Whatever it is you're trying to pull off. This _We'll always have Paris_ stuff. Was it your plan to do the grand romantic tour, play therapist and show me how you're my actual reason not to turn it back off?" she asked, derision dripping from her every word. His face remained perfectly neutral, but she couldn't help the feeling that her tone had actually got to him. He stepped to the edge of the platform and gazed down, then went on to examine the other three sides before returning his attention to her.

"Given that your comatose sleep took five hours off my twenty-five, I would prefer not to waste any more time with fruitless arguments. Tour, yes. Romance, not even a little bit. And if you want therapy, you will need to find someone else." He pointed at the northern opening. "No people on this side. Go." When she cast him a skeptical glance, he cocked his head and gave her the Mikaelson version of big, expectant puppy dog eyes, accompanied by an exaggerated, honey-sweet purr. "Tandem jump, then? Holding hands?"

She scoffed but couldn't quite suppress a light twitch of her lips, one she was sure he hadn't missed. "If I hold your hand on the way down, I'll land in hell, not on the street," she grumbled, walked to the arch he had indicated and leaped without further ado. His chuckle was lost in the light breeze as he followed, landing next to her on the cobbled little alley behind the bell tower, an alley still devoid of passersby at this early hour. He looked at her with an inscrutable expression before he ran a hand through his hair.

"You'll be free to do as you please before the sun rises again. Until then, can we agree that you will not argue with me every step of the way?"

"I'm still me and you're still you. Go figure."

To her eternal surprise, a genuine, broad beam split his face, illuminating his features like the sunrise she had just woken up to. "Come on. I'm starving." With that, he dashed off, leaving her momentarily dazed at his sudden departure - and the opportunity to run. She didn't doubt he would find her eventually, but here was her chance to get away from him. Her feet began to move on their own, at full vampire speed, soundlessly carrying her along the old Parisian streets, down the hill of Montmartre and deep into the heart of the French capital. She ran and ran, too fast for any human to see, and it was only after a minute that she realized what she was doing.

She was following Klaus.

* * *

A short while later, they were seated at a tiny table in the very center of a minuscule but bustling café somewhere in the 7th Arrondissement, in close vicinity to the Tour Eiffel. It was far from what she would have expected Klaus to choose. An array of voices vibrated through the place crammed with office workers and those returning from night shifts; people arrived and left in a constant flow, all of them French as far as Caroline could tell. A middle-aged, resolute waitress tended to all of the dozen tables, shouting orders to the bartender who, in turn, shouted them into the microscopic kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the room, blending in with the scent of oranges and warm croissants. For reasons she couldn't put her finger on, Caroline not only felt her mouth water, but also a dry burning behind her eyes.

_You're not crying over coffee and croissants, Caroline Forbes! You gave enough of a spectacle last night. Dignity!_

What she had also not expected was Klaus' strange behavior. He didn't stare at her, didn't examine her face as he had ever since starting to harass her last night, and he didn't say much. He merely leaned back, snatched a copy of _Le Monde_ newspaper that had been left behind on a chair next to him, and submerged in world news. For a moment, she debated whether to say anything, but the arrival of her croissant, coffee and orange juice dissuaded her from the idea. A moment later, she no longer cared at all. This croissant had been made halfway between paradise and heaven, she thought while her eyes inadvertently closed at her first bite. In the few months she had spent in Paris, she had had her share of croissants, but this was... perfection, pure and simple. Crispy, warm, soft inside, with a rich buttery taste that made her send a silent thank you to the late Katherine Pierce for turning her into a calorie-immune vampire. While munching away, she took a sip of coffee and nearly fell off her chair. It was hot and strong, making her taste buds tingle with delight; for an absurd second, she saw Colombian mountains and a guy with a packing mule, serving her fresh-grown coffee from a rickety pot...

_I need to stop watching Bruce Almighty._

Frowning, she lifted the glass of orange juice to her lips, and again, she nearly doubled over from delight at its taste. Her first impulse was to ask Klaus whether this place had been spelled by Parisian witches specializing in gourmet magic, but the pull of food and drink was stronger. When she was done, she ordered another round. And then another. At her fourth order, she saw the corners of Klaus' mouth curve upwards while he moved on to the next newspaper page. He was still at his first croissant and coffee.

"Okay," Caroline said when he didn't speak, "am I the only one who thinks this is the best thing anyone has ever tasted?"

"Yes, you are," he smiled, not looking up from his paper. "It is decent, but not otherworldly."

"Then why does it taste like Christmas and Thanksgiving to me?"

This time, he did look at her. "When a vampire turns off his humanity, he not only loses his compassion and emotions, he also loses his sensuality. His senses function but they no longer connect to the vampire's emotional side. You feel pain but it does not frighten you. You eat a croissant and know what you're eating, but you don't enjoy it. You have sex and find it pleasurable, but you no longer feel any kind of intimacy." His eyes held hers for the duration of a heartbeat, and she knew where his mind was. Before hers could follow him there, he went on. "You have only just returned from a year of no sensuality whatsoever. It's the one positive effect of switching off one's humanity - once it is back on, the world bursts with color, taste, scent, and sound for a little while. Your senses are reconnecting with your emotions, Caroline."

Within her lingering grief and sorrow, she caught a sudden glimpse of who she had been before her Mom's illness. A woman with a mind and soul wide open to life, deeply enjoying everything sensual - and growing with it. Her eyes wandered over the crowded café, taking in the faces of the people. It was strange, she mused, how unique and vivid they all suddenly seemed to her. They were no longer a crowd with no identity. They were the man who was running late, hectically downing his coffee on his way to work, maybe because he had been making love to his wife and lost time over it, or he had been out drinking late last night. They were the woman who sat quietly in the corner, studying her book with the concentration of someone who wanted to escape the dreary confines of her reality but still looked up every now and then to glance at it. They were the waitress who kept peeking at her phone in between carrying trays, hoping for a call or text from someone who played an important role in her life. Caroline knew none of these people nor would she ever see them again, but they formed part of her life now because they had shared her first human morning with her. She couldn't say why, but she felt a strange kinship with them all, and she liked the idea. Twenty-four hours earlier, she had been standing next to the glass pyramid in front of the Louvre, surrounded by tourists and Parisians scurrying in a hundred directions; she had stood there for hours, ignoring the passing time as she had ignored the gust of rain and the faces of the passersby. She had been the only creature in the universe, and all those people had been as far away from her as the most distant of galaxies. The thought was thoroughly disturbing - was that who she wanted to be for the rest of her existence?

"What next?" she demanded without commenting on Klaus' explanation, trying to distract herself from her whirling thoughts. "Boat tour on the Seine while you sing _La Vie en Rose_?"

"Of course. Followed by a visit of the Tour Eiffel, the Champs Elysées, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, and some afternoon shopping. If we hurry, we might be able to squeeze in Disneyland before dinner."

The buzz of his phone interrupted their banter. Eyeing the caller ID, he took the call. "Brother. Any news?"

_"You might want to speed up your... business in Europe, Niklaus. I have Esther and Davina, but Finn escaped, and from what I overheard before our dear mother stepped into my trap, it would seem that we will soon be facing a happy family reunion."_

Caroline clutched her coffee cup, trying not to let the thought of Esther bother her.

"What does that mean?" Klaus asked quietly, setting his paper aside.

_"That means we might expect a surprise visit from our beloved father. Also..."_

"Yes?"

_"Niklaus, I do hope this is nothing but a ruse, yet there is a remote chance that they found a way to detach you from your line after all. It has something to do with your werewolf genes, but that's all I heard so far. You need to get back at your earliest convenience."_

Startled, Caroline stared at Klaus, everything else momentarily forgotten. His eyes found hers and held them; he made no effort to hide the little flicker of apprehension, and all of a sudden, she realized that he allowed her to listen. He did not step outside or stop Elijah from speaking about something that could potentially cut off his line and expose him to a gazillion new attempts of ending his life. Attempts she could play an active part in, for all he knew, taking into account how often she had done exactly that in the past. Yet there was no denying that something between them had changed long ago. They both knew it... and she assumed this was his way of showing her his trust.

"I have the plane on standby and will fly out first thing tomorrow morning," he said to Elijah without taking his eyes off hers.

_"Fly back today, you'll be in around noon."_

Klaus took a swig of his coffee, pulling a grimace at how it had obviously turned cold. He set the cup back down on the table. "Tomorrow. Has Rebekah arrived?"

_"Yes."_ Elijah's voice sounded puzzled. _"Brother, are you certain..."_

"I am. Tell me about your current setup."

A brief silence followed before Elijah reported lengthily on witches, vampires, and everything he was doing to find out more. "_The Salvatores are proving excellent allies, but I have my doubts as regards Marcel's true allegiance in this game. People are beginning to whisper about your absence, and I suspect it is giving him ideas. Or reinforcing them."_

"Stefan and Damon are in New Orleans?" Caroline cut in, "Helping you? Why would they?"

"They would otherwise be here and get on my nerves. Elijah, I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Hold the fort until then and place your focus on finding Mikael and Finn. Also look out for Kol while you're at it. Would not be a family gathering without our baby brother, would it now? Stay together with Rebekah. Do not separate. You require two pairs of Original eyes."

_"Very well. Give my regards to Miss Forbes, and... do hurry, Niklaus. I have a rising feeling we will need to join forces to prevent major disaster."_

The call had barely ended when Caroline folded her arms across her chest. "Are you crazy? I've met your deranged parents and those two creepy brothers of yours, and whatever is brewing - if they're the cooks, you should take a supersonic jet _now _and get back to New Orleans!"

"If I did not know better, I would thank you for worrying over me." The little twinkle in his eyes reminded her of the day she had come to ask him for a dress.

"But thankfully, you do know better," she retorted, inwardly strangling the annoying voice that told her she _was_ worried. "Oh, and again - what the heck are Stefan and Damon doing there?" Another surge of discomfort threatened to overwhelm her at the memory of turning down Stefan's friendship that fateful day. Discomfort morphed into near-nausea when Klaus explained how the Salvatores had spent the past year searching for her until finally succeeding and coming to Klaus for help. "They've been looking for me all this time?" she whispered, her eyes outlining a coffee stain on the table in a desperate attempt not to look at Klaus and give away just how this new pile of shame strangled her.

"Indeed. Stefan received a hint at your being in Paris..."

"... and you came up with the glorious idea of compelling me into turning it back on."

He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it, his jaw set. "I trust you are finished?" he asked with a curt nod at her plate. "Then let us leave."

"How come you never looked for me?" she demanded on their way out while casting a last glance at the other patrons, silently saying _au revoir._ "Not that I'm not glad you didn't, but you of all people..."

They had barely set foot on the sidewalk when she felt herself lifted off the ground and flashed into a nearby house entrance where her back slammed into the sturdy door. Klaus' lean, strong body trapped hers against the metal, and to her horror, her arms itched to sneak around his waist. She could only just stop them from doing so, and herself from closing her eyes and surrendering to the overwhelming havoc his scent wreaked on her rambunctious system. That in itself was old news, but her starved senses made it worse than ever, and it did not help that his lips grazed her earlobe with every word he breathed in his dark, husky timbre.

"Had anyone taken the pains of informing me in time, you would not have made it out of Mystic Falls."

"That wasn't your call to make, just as it wasn't Stefan's," she hissed, fighting a losing battle against the way his proximity crawled under her skin and the undertone of genuine offense in his voice made her want to pull him closer. "What would you have done, Klaus? Compelled me to stay and not turn it off? Have me shackled up in the Salvatores' basement?"

He pinned her wrists high up against the door. Caroline's heart nearly stopped when he skimmed his nose along her jawline before resting his cheek against hers... and finally bringing her to close her eyes. "It astonishes me that after all this time," he paused to press a featherlight kiss to her temple, "after that day in the woods, you should still doubt me when it comes to you." There was another kiss on her cheek, his lips lingering a little this time, before she suddenly felt cold. His body weight disappeared, her arms were free, and his voice sounded normal again. "But yes, I would have had you locked up in the Salvatore cellar without a second's hesitation." When she opened her eyes, he was standing a good yard away. She buried her nails in the palms of her hand, intent on shaking off the daze, and looked him in the eye with all the exasperation she could muster.

"Go home, Klaus, okay? Take care of your family drama."

"Unlike you, love, I do have my priorities sorted in the right order."

Caroline steeled herself against the growing recognition of what he was doing. A real, palpable threat awaited him in New Orleans, one that needed his full attention, that had been haunting him for centuries - and still, here he was. He had set everything else aside to come to Paris. To her. With a helpless shrug, she ignored the cascade of warmth that shed a precious light on her inner storm clouds and walked past him, muttering mechanically, "Do what you want. I don't care."

She had barely reached the next street corner when his silken voice floated through the air as he fell into step behind her. "Should it have escaped your attention, Caroline - I am in the midst of taking care of my family drama."

* * *

Caroline did not say a word during their entire metro ride, making Klaus wonder whether hist last remark had taken things too far. She had not stopped, not turned around, and avoided looking at him ever since. It had not been his intention to voice his feelings like this at such an inappropriate time, but the words had just slipped out before he had been able to stop himself. He needed to return to New Orleans in the morning, perhaps even as soon as later that same night, and he needed to make the most of his brief window of opportunity to convince Caroline not to turn it off again after he left. The pining idiot inside him needed to shut the fuck up.

His initial idea had been to continue down the path he had taken last night and make her confront what haunted her. But he had changed his mind soon after she had fallen asleep. Caroline had completely relaxed in his arms, abandoned all caution and entrusted herself to him without reserve - in her most vulnerable moment. Pushing her over the edge that first time had been good and right, she had sorely needed the meltdown, but during those five sleepless hours he had spent keeping her safe from it all, he had understood that more of the same would concentrate her focus exclusively on her demons, on pain and the guilt he didn't doubt she felt. No, after a year centered around darkness and everything she was not, it was also some _normal_ she needed. Klaus' human days lay so far behind him that the memories of them had faded into the shadows of time. He remembered his human life, but he could barely recall how he had _felt_ as a human. He had no idea what to say to her to make things less painful - the truth was that he had not experienced _normal_ in a very long while - and so he had decided to just dive into the city with her, to let Paris do the talking for him. And he had to give it to the old lady - her opening monologue had been brilliant. When Caroline had awoken from her sound sleep, she had been so mesmerized by the sight of the radiant Parisian morning that her woes had vanished from the forefront of her mind for several minutes. His usual presumptuousness did not go so far as to assume that those dark clouds would not return to her at some point over the course of this day, but he would deal with it once it happened. Something told him a clearly defined plan was neither necessary nor useful; he would, for once, follow his emotions and let Caroline's reactions guide him.

The little workmen's café had been a good first choice, for he sensed she had liked the place. While pretending to read his paper, Klaus had considered where to go next. In spite of his earlier protestations, he had briefly debated with himself whether to visit the places famed for being the foundation of Paris's renown as the capital of love. Yet no matter how pressing the urge to lay his heart at her feet, today was not about his feelings; he would need to content himself with how the simple act of holding her in his arms had brought him a happiness he hadn't expected in a thousand years. No walks over the bridges of the Seine, along the Canal St. Martin, or through the Parc des Buttes Chaumont. What he had in mind was the Paris of the Parisians, the corners not yet overrun by the thousands of visitors the city saw every day. And they would start in Belleville and the Quartier Jourdain, neighboring areas that were widely residential but not without their very own touch of bohème.

Upon leaving the Pyrénées metro station, they aimlessly walked the streets, eventually making their way up to the quaint Parc de Belleville. With a fond smile, Klaus remembered the good old days when Belleville had not been part of Paris but a tranquil village with an above average proportion of lovely peasant girls with the sweetest of bloods.

"What are you grinning about?" Caroline asked, interrupting his musings. "New plans to terrorize unsuspecting vampires?"

"No. More of a stroll down memory lane."

He was at no loss to notice the indiscernible pause before she said, "What was her name?"

"There were too many to remember, I fear." His smile held a hint of malice.

"You know..." She gave him that sideways glance of hers that always made him feel like a wayward husband about to be lectured by his impetuous wife. "You're actually a bit of a slut, aren't you?"

Klaus stopped dead, bringing her to halt, too, and stared at her with blatant disbelief - before breaking into a spontaneous gale of laughter. And it felt wonderful. He couldn't quite recall the last time he had laughed like this, and it became all the more rewarding when he noticed Caroline's lips quirk upwards for a split second. Still chuckling, he said, "I've been called many things over the course of my long life, but this is a new addition to my vast collection of names." He shook his head, bemused. "Although I suppose it does ring true to a certain extent. But the ladies in this particular village had their very own appeal, one that lay not in their beauty but in their blood, first and foremost. Do you see the fenced area over there?" She followed his finger with her eyes and nodded. "That's what remains of Belleville's once-famous vineyards. They keep this as some sort of memorial, I assume, given that no-one really knows what it is they do with the grapes these days. But this entire hill was once covered in vineyards; they produced a rather basic wine called Piquette. You may have seen the vineyard in Montmartre; it has a similar history, with the difference that wine is still made from those grapes. But I digress. In the early years of wine production in Belleville, there was something very particular about the grapes grown here, and about the wine produced. Perhaps it was the soil at the time, I couldn't say. Anyway, the regular consumption of both the grapes and wine led to the humans' blood becoming quite singular in taste. It remains, to this day, the sweetest I have ever sampled." He gave her a quick smile, fighting the urge to close his eyes at the memory of her blood on this tongue. "Present company excluded."

"Ha ha."

In a lightning-fast motion, he snatched her hand, brought her wrist to his nose and inhaled deeply. His eyes did close as he muttered, "I apologize. There can be no comparison." He had already let go of her hand before she could think of making a snide comment. "The taste of the grapes gradually changed over the years, and with it, that of the ladies of Belleville."

She said nothing as they walked on, but he had caught her inspecting the vineyard with something remotely resembling intrigue in her deep ocean eyes. For the millionth time, he cursed his mother and her eternal quest to bring him down; only on this bright morning, he cursed Esther for different reasons than usual. He would have needed more time with Caroline. Her fight against her demons would be long and arduous, one she had to fight on her own and could never win in a day, but he hated not being able to remain at her side until she did. Suppressing a sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that it was the initial battle against her desire to turn it back off they needed to win together today. And her next unexpected words revealed that a battle it would be.

"Speaking of taste." A few dozen yards ahead, two men filed down the path, absorbed in conversation. Caroline was scanning them with the eyes of the hunter she had been for the past year. Her black veins began to form, and whilst her fangs remained hidden, her irises adopted the distinct shimmer of a vampire trapped in blood lust. Her nostrils flared with the scent of the human men as his had with the mouthwatering fragrance of the blood thrumming under her skin, and just when Klaus narrowed his eyes at her, she clapped a hand over her mouth and stepped off the pathway onto the grass, moving away while turning her back on the two men. They walked by without even looking up at either of them, still oblivious to their surroundings. As soon as they had rounded a small hill and were out of sight, Klaus crossed the distance and came to a halt right behind Caroline. He reached for her arm, but at the very last moment before his fingers grazed her skin, he stopped himself from touching her. Her shoulders rose and fell with her hectic breathing, her entire body was tense like a bowstring, and her hands were pressed against her mouth hard enough to make her knuckles whiten.

"Relax," he said, "they are gone, you held it together. What is more, do you seriously believe I would have let you?"

"It's not like you give a damn about them," she squeezed out from behind her hands.

"No. But once your head clears, you might remember that I give a damn about you, and you might also recall that you fed only last night. You are not in need of blood, you merely crave it. Induced by my story, it would seem. My apologies."

She did turn around at that. To his dismay, he spotted a single tear glistening on her cheek. "What's wrong with me? My humanity is back on, how can I still want to feed on humans? I'm supposed to be myself again! When Stefan turned it back on, he..."

"Love, you have been feeding from the tap for a year. Your system requires some time to adjust. And do not believe that Stefan Salvatore of all people had a happy song on his lips when he buried his fangs in his first rabbit after returning from months of free rein. Look at me."

Her eyes remained focused on her hands as if she was trying to find traces of the blood she had shed.

"Caroline. Do look at me."

Very slowly, she raised her head. His heart skipped a beat at the mixture of vulnerability and blood lust on her features. It was not the first time he imagined watching her sink her fangs into a human neck, nor would it be the last, but as always with the bewitching Miss Forbes, his protectiveness prevailed. He bridged the last bit of distance that separated them and slid the sleeves of his jacket and shirt up his arm a few inches. Before she grasped his intention, he cast a quick glance around and bit his wrist. "You may not need it, but I do not want you to spend the day dominated by your cravings. It will also help to dilute your acutest memories of the taste of human blood."

_... and allow you to give in to your own cravings, is that not right, Niklaus? _

Hypnotized by the tiny drops of blood on his wrist, Caroline shook her head without taking her eyes off them. "No way. I'd rather have a cocktail of vervain and battery acid with a dash of your Hybrid venom."

"Of course you would." He placed a finger underneath her chin and forced her to look at him again. "Do not waste your energy on pride, love. Not while you are with me today. Taking what I offer is not a sign of weakness." A sudden rise of emotion rendered his voice unsteady. "You fed from me twice when you were on the verge of dying. And now do ask yourself who of us was the stronger one either time around."

Her gaze found his wrist. The tiny wounds had already healed, yet her lips parted, and for the duration of a deep breath, he saw the tip of her tongue touch her upper lip. "I thought you weren't going to go down the romantic route."

"I..." He got no further. Caroline seized his arm and brought it to her lips. In a stunning copy of his earlier move, she inhaled and closed her eyes - only to send him into a whirlwind of fire when her lower lip grazed his skin. One small drop of blood glistened in the sunlight, and the sight of it on her beautiful, pink mouth nearly drove him insane... until she licked the droplet off her lip. Every thought was drained from his mind. Some remote remainders of rationality demanded caution, suspecting one of her usual hoaxes, but the obnoxious voice did not stand a chance. Caroline was not playing him. Her lips quivered, her breath had caught with the first cognizant taste of his blood, and her head fell back slightly as she savored the little burgundy drop with all senses. Before his own eyes could close at the overpowering onslaught of wonder, he wrapped an arm around her and flashed them both up the hill and behind a thick, full hedge that concealed them from prying human eyes. She hadn't let go of his wrist, nor did she open her eyes as he set her down, her back against his chest.

"All yours. As ever."

His whispered words sent a violent tremor through her - just as he nearly convulsed with pleasure the second her fangs pierced him.

Klaus no longer heard the song of the birds. He no longer saw the sparkling sunlight. He no longer sensed the cool, light breeze on his face. Everything was _her_. Her fangs in his wrist, her tongue moving incessantly over his skin in a deeply sensual pattern, her body pressed against his, seeking support. Her moans. Those soft, intense moans from the small place inside her heart that belonged to him. Right here and right now, Caroline was his as he was hers, rendering him utterly helpless in the face of the urgency with which she took possession of what belonged to her.

"God, you taste incredible," she suddenly mumbled against his wrist. "So good. So... good..."

There was nothing he could do to prevent himself from growing rock-hard, nor could he hide it from her. The length of her body was crammed against his, and he doubted that even in her frenzied blood rush she could be at any loss to feel his erection. She would hate him for it, he knew that. Her humanity had been back for mere hours, she was in pain, upset, confused, and he had nothing better to do than... this. But he was powerless. Even more so when she didn't shove him away but let her head drop against his shoulder while she held on to his arm with both hands, soaking up his blood as if it were sweeter than honey.

They remained like that for an eternity, Caroline clinging to him like an addict on cold turkey clung to his fix, and Klaus fighting the battle of his life to keep himself from tearing off her clothes and surrender to his monumental need for her. Had he ever experienced a more erotic moment? The love of his life nestled in his arm, drinking his blood and ever so often twitching in his embrace, producing a delicious friction that caused his entire system to shortcircuit... He barely noticed how his hand slithered upwards in a possessive motion, finding her ribcage, burning to glide under her shirt and tear her bra to pieces. He would merely touch her at first, set her on fire with no more than the tips of his fingers until she begged him to used his tongue and teeth on her, just like she had in Mystic Falls that day. His eyes closed with the pictures in his head, with the remembrance of his tongue twirling around her hard little nipple...

_This is not the time. Stop it, Niklaus. Before you no longer can._

"Caroline."

He said no more, but then he didn't need to. With one last, inaudible sigh, she let go of his wrist at the same instant he released her from his embrace, wincing with a slash of physical pain at having to break this moment of profound connection. To his amazement, her face was calm and open with no trace of annoyance or hostility when she turned to examine his features.

"Did I drink too much?"

"No. But you have lived without restraints for quite some time, and the sooner you get used to mastering your cravings again, the better." He decided to leave it at that, and to his relief, she didn't seem to probe any further. "Let us leave. I have a few more spots to show you."

A shadow clouded Caroline's hooded eyes as she gazed over his shoulder and into the distance. "I wonder if I can ever look at Paris again without seeing the blood stains I caused it," she murmured in a subdued voice. Before Klaus could tell her that she most certainly would, her gaze met his. "The cemetery isn't far, is it? I want to go."

His first reflex was to deny her pointblank and focus on his original plan to seek the simple, _normal_ pleasures, sights and sounds, yet he changed his mind within the fraction of a second. He had vouched to deal with the darkness once it descended upon her again, and so he would. With a shrug, he gestured in the general direction of Père-Lachaise. "Why not."

* * *

They arrived at the burial ground just as the gates were being opened for the day. Visitors trickled onto the premises in a slow but steady succession, scattering all over the countless paths, most of them headed to the graves of Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, Chopin, and Molière. As he followed Caroline, Klaus lifted a brow while doing a quick mental assessment of the number of famed personalities buried on these grounds - and of how many of them he had known in their times. The gap between legend and reality was spectacular in many cases, and it had long become one of his guilty pleasures to peruse modern-day biographies only to have a quiet laugh at their ludicrous inaccuracies.

Caroline strode along the labyrinthine pathways at a brisk pace, not looking left or right. Klaus did harbor a certain suspicion as to where she was headed but thought it political to keep his mouth shut. They walked in silence until she stopped in front of a weathered crypt with an iron door above which a double mirrored R was engraved in the stone.

"This is James de Rothschild's grave," she said in a small voice.

"I know." He waited.

Stepping forward, she placed a gentle hand on the door, then turned to point at the leaf-covered ground. "I killed a man, Klaus. Right here." Her wide, unhappy eyes locked with his, seeking condemnation, forgiveness, even ridicule. None of which he would give her.

"Show me the other places."

There were five, including the crematorium. Caroline was trembling as they stood at the foot of the steps leading up to the square building with its columns and ornate cupola. Klaus withstood the desire to draw her into his arms and spend the rest of the day comforting her. Instead, he said, "How many before you came to Paris?"

"T-three. I... fed from humans... instead of blood bags. All the time. Most of them survived, but sometimes, the cravings were too strong. I drained them. I'm... a murderer. I killed eight men because I was thirsty. It would have been just as easy to choose the blood bank." She wrapped her arms around herself, and for the duration of a heartbeat, it was as if he could not only see, but _feel_ her pain. "Turns out I'm as bad as you are, huh?"

Klaus had to smile. He found himself smiling an awful lot since first clapping eyes on her. "I believe there is no danger of that, even if you turned off your humanity for another thousand years." She tried a wry smile of her own but failed miserably. He bridged the distance and came to her side, but instead of the embrace she seemed to expect, he offered her his arm. "Shall we walk?" After a moment of consideration, she gave a nod and took his arm, a little more firmly than was customary, thus encouraging him to cover her hand with his and tenderly run his thumb along hers.

"You have killed eight men. That's a fact, and no amount of self-flagellation will change it or bring them back to life, Caroline. You need to realize that with both your head and your heart." She flinched but otherwise kept her composure. "I confess to some difficulty in empathizing with your moral predicament, but I recognize that unlike mine, your conscience has not and will never wither to a state of near-nonexistence. Absolution is not mine to offer, love, nor is it anyone else's. You, and you alone, are responsible for yourself. But let me put things into perspective." His eyes drifted off into the distance. "Your most basic nature, Caroline, changed the moment you became a vampire. We were created to be the most dangerous predators this planet has ever seen. What you retain of your human persona will always be unnatural, struggling against what your true core is now - the vampire. And I have not seen many whose human persona is as strong and successful as yours; it is one of your many traits that fascinate me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her looking up at him, but his gaze remained on the gravestones and trees ahead. "Now you have encountered one situation that saw the vampire in you win a skirmish, and you decided to raise the white flag to what is the stronger part of you by nature. Surrender was quick and painless. Turning it off doesn't hurt. It is easy. But here is the question." He halted and turned to look her in the eye. "Do you want to spend your life with _easy_? Do you want a life that never changes? Stand before nature and art and beauty feeling nothing?"

Her voice was a tad unsteady when she retorted, "Do you really want to spend your life with all this continuous drama? The pain? The wars? The loss?"

"My life has been rather extreme, I admit that, and I will share a little secret with you - I could use a break every now and again." Her brows rose, making him smile again. "But we are not discussing my eternal extremes. We are talking about a life where not everything is smooth and simple, a life that gives you roses with razor-sharp thorns, monsters with beautiful faces, and bumps in your very long road."

Caroline's lips parted. "Bumps in the road," she repeated, her gaze wandering to one of the gravestones, "my Mom said that right before she... before she died." He felt her hand seeking his, and when she found it, his pulse seemed to falter.

"What did she say?"

The quiver in her voice deepened. "That I would make my way, even when there were bumps in the road."

"I agree with her. And it would seem that she knew a thing or two about life." Although he wanted to say more, to find out what else the Sheriff had said to her daughter, he left it at that. She would tell him when she was ready. Someday. They returned to the pathway, and when they did, their fingers intertwined in a gesture so simple and natural it elated and humbled him - when had been the last time he had walked like this with someone? He was almost reluctant to return to the subject at hand for fear of destroying the absurd but undeniable magic of the moment. Once more, he had to remind himself that everything other than her emotional stability had to wait. "Caroline, you know you killed those men, and I know it. Amaury knows of this last one, but the body has been taken care of and his community is not in jeopardy. No-one else needs to know, not ever, so you might want to consider coming to think of this past year as a bump in your road."

"I killed innocent people! How is that a bump in the road?"

"From the viewpoint of your vampire nature, it is not even that. It is your life. Like it or not - and I know you do most of the time - the vampire will never leave you again. Learn to reconcile your two natures, and learn to accept all sides of both. It is the only way a vampire can bear to live forever. You won't get there today or tomorrow, but eventually, you will."

This time it was Caroline who stopped him. For once, no trace of mockery or provocation accompanied her question. "What about you, Klaus? I don't see you running around with a happy, unburdened smile."

He could not go there, not today. And he didn't want to talk about it in the first place, but he needed to give her an honest answer; she deserved it. So he opted for the lightest of tones and the most generic version of the truth. "Let me just put it like this. What _you_ did, you did while your humanity was switched off."

She did not speak for a very long while as they followed the paths around the cemetery, hands joined. Very gradually, she seemed to relax a little. The tension left her fingers, her steps became lighter, and she stopped looking at the ground, beginning to take in her surroundings with more attention. "And you claim not to be a therapist," she quipped after several minutes.

"I most definitely am not."

"Then what are you?"

Klaus ran his free hand through his hair. "Your friend, maybe. And..."

"And?"

"And I will be countless things to you that reach very far beyond friendship. One fine day. After a few more bumps in the road. Speaking of which," he added, keen on moving away from the topic, "have a look at this."

To their right rose what looked like an open little chapel, complete with a pointed roof, little turrets and ornaments. Underneath the roof, a massive stone altar carried the recumbent statues of a man and woman, their hands folded in prayer. A tall iron fence surrounded the grave site, keeping all-too-curious visitors at bay.

"Héloïse and Abélard," Caroline said.

"Have you ever heard their story?"

She shook her head. "I know all those graves, but I never really bothered to find out more. It didn't interest me at the time...nothing did."

Deciding it would do no major damage, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the tips of her fingers. "Héloïse was a young noblewoman in twelfth century France, uncommonly scholarly and educated for a woman of her time. Abélard, himself a great philosopher and renowned teacher, had been appointed by her family to advance her education. They entertained an illicit affair that resulted in an out-of-wedlock child and, later, a marriage initially kept under wraps in order not to taint Abélard's reputation. However, Héloïse's vengeful uncle ultimately could not seem to live with the shame the entire affair brought to his family and ordered Abélard to be castrated. He went on to become a monk, just as Héloïse was placed in a convent, and the lovers spent the rest of their lives in incessant correspondence, most of which has thankfully been preserved, although its contents - and the whole story - have been highly romanticized. Their remains were buried together." He jerked his chin at the tomb. "They have taken _bumps in the road_ to a whole new level."

"Did you meet them?" Caroline's gaze was taking in the two statues; to his quiet joy, Klaus detected the same expression of cautious intrigue in them he had registered at the vineyard.

"No. I wasn't in France at the time."

"Then how do you know their story is being romanticized?"

"Balance of probability. Most of the world's great romances have been glorified in their aftermath, and to a worrying extent. See the sheets of paper impaled on the fence? It's become a tradition among lovers to leave letters at Héloïse and Abélard's grave. Who in their right mind believes anything good can come from spiking a letter to your loved one on the fence surrounding the tomb of two people who had the worst of lives, both together and apart?"

For the first time since he had met her the previous night, a genuine smile graced Caroline's features. "You're really not much of a romantic, are you?"

"I hate to use the expression, but - duh. Was it not you who called me a slut less than an hour ago?"

"One thing doesn't necessarily exclude the other."

Klaus gave a little bow. "Point for you. But what in the name of all that's holy is romantic about all this tragedy?"

She let her eyes wander over the tomb and the roof, then on to the sheets. "People who come here know the story of those two. By leaving their letters, they want to fool fate - as in, if I face head on and with a seeing eye what _can_ happen to my love, then it _won't _happen."

Was it a figment of his imagination, or had her fingers just closed tighter around his hand? "Where is the logic in that?" he demanded, unable to keep his own fingers from gently stroking hers.

"Ah, hello?" she suddenly said in that wonderfully annoying _Caroline_ tone of hers, "What does love have to do with logic? Was it logical for your brother to be in love with Katherine for five hundred years? Was it logical for Elena to fall in love with Stefan, then with Damon? You know what, strike that, that's an off-the-scales case. Was it logical for..."

When she didn't speak on, he squeezed her hand. "For?"

"For you to fall in love with me?" she finally managed to mumble between clenched teeth.

With a light chuckle, he inclined his head. "Mathematics couldn't be more logical."

* * *

The day went by more swiftly than Klaus would have liked. After leaving the cemetery, they had reached a silent agreement to also leave the heavy topics there, and from that moment on, Klaus had focused all of his efforts on engaging her senses. They had started off with an early lunch at Le Baratin, a bistro serving not only excellent food but down-to-earth wines from all around the country. Instead of compelling the owners to make space for them in the overcrowded eatery, he had quietly bribed them. He supposed it was his definition of _normal._ Following lunch, he showed her a few off-the-beaten track sights, leaving out the more gory details of Paris's colorful history, instead exposing on the interesting personalities that had helped shape the city.

With every story and every taste of food and wine, another piece of Caroline seemed to fall into its old place. She was not exactly exuberant and joyful, but then he had never expected her to be. He contented himself with her growing attention to his tales, the way her eyes lingered longer on every new sight, and the occasional questions she interspersed. It baffled him to find himself longing to hold her hand again like a shy adolescent boy, yet she made no move in that direction and he decided to take the hint.

Afternoon began to gradually transition into early evening as they walked along a tranquil side street in the Marais quarter, one of Klaus' favorites. There were a million things to do, but all that currently came to mind was in some shape or form romantic, and with an inward snicker, he asked himself whether this whole day was having a far greater effect on him than it had on her.

"What would you like to do next?" he asked Caroline as they passed the green facade of the picturesque little Hotel Saint Paul Le Marais. It was the easiest way out of the dilemma of wanting to drag her down to the Seine and watch the damned sunset.

"Running out of ideas, are we?"

"This is the twenty-first century, love. The times of gender equality. Believe it or not, even women get to make a choice every now and then these days."

"Jerk," she shot back, but once more, her lips twitched. "Why don't you buy me a new Chanel and take me to dinner at the most ridiculously expensive restaurant of them all?"

"Done," he said and was about to turn and head back to the metro when she stopped him.

"I'm kidding. I know it sounds outlandish, but I don't think I'm in the mood for glitz and glamor. Not today." She bit her lip. "I want to see Amaury's prison."

Klaus folded his arms over his chest. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I gave you that speech about reconciling your vampire and human sides for a reason. You are still very much under the influence of the past year, even though it might not seem like it to you, and a visit to the very epitome of everything that is unsavory about our kind does not seem like a particularly brilliant idea."

She gave him a challenging glance. "You don't even have a kind, Mr. Hybrid."

"I do thank you for reminding me," he said dryly. "I prefer to see myself as the combined crown jewel of all three supernatural kinds."

"Crown jewel?" She surprised them both by giving a quick giggle. "More like the lava pebble from hell."

"In the good old days, an unmarried woman this feisty would quickly find herself under the guillotine," he wisecracked, his heart still trying to recover from her giggle.

"Ah, but it's the twenty-first century. Gender equality."

The little moment of lighthearted teasing proved too much for him to take. In one fluid motion, he was in front of her, his hands framing her face. "Caroline, I'm leaving in no more than a few hours. The last sight you see before deciding whether you will keep your humanity is not going to be a dungeon full of rotting vampires."

"Why does everyone always think they can make my decisions for me?" she exploded without a warning. Her eyes were on fire, her face livid, but she made no move to escape his hands, not even when he shouted back at her.

"Your last major decision was not among your brightest, love!" He, too, was unable to let go.

"That doesn't give you the right to play my guardian!"

Klaus stared down into her lovely face, his heart racing with something between outrage and the helpless need to shield her from herself. Neither won as he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I never have, Caroline, and I never will. But just as I gave you my word to accept your choice at the end of this day, you will have to accept that I will do what I can to persuade you to make the right choice." He sensed her lift her arms, but just when she was about to sling them around his waist, she stopped herself. It was painful.

"Then let me see that prison," she said, no longer shouting but standing very still. "Klaus, I feel like a dozen scars inside me broke open. I can't stop thinking about my Mom, about what I did, about what I didn't do. How can any sight possibly be worse than that?"

When Klaus opened his eyes, he saw that hers had closed. Giving them both another moment before he let go of her, he fought down his innate drive to assert his will. His thousand years put together had not seen him cast his hubris aside as many times and as thoroughly as he had done in this one day.

"What do you expect this visit to accomplish?" he demanded, intent on delaying the inevitable.

"Nothing. I just want to... I don't know. Maybe I just want find out if I'm still strong enough to stomach our world with my humanity turned on."

"Caroline, all you require for that purpose is a look in the mirror."

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What has to happen for you to stop seeing me like you do?"

His mood soared at the barely discernible undertone of wonder in her voice. And all of a sudden he knew he was being an overprotective fool. She could handle herself, and he would let her prove it. "What needs to happen? An educated guess would say, the apocalypse." His chuckle made her lips twitch. "Well, then, love - The Shawshank Redemption it is."


	4. Chapter 4

**I am SO sorry, dearies! I never expected this update to take so long; my only excuse it that sometimes, the day job takes even more hours off writing than usual. On the upside, I'm almost finished with the final chapter as well (although I need to cut that one down a bit, it has 25.000 words as it stands, and I still need to change a few things), so I hope that one won't take more than a few days.**

**Once more, I am speechless at all the lovely responses. As this was really little more than a short story to take my convoluted mind off my other project, I never expected so many reviews, and I'm beyond grateful to you guys. So I'm sending big virtual hugs to:**

**Angelikah, MsCindz, Venus88, Kjsama, SweetyK, Hazel21, PinkTrinityRose12, MoreColourfulMoniker, CKhybrid, MissTranquility, eveli, flipped, Jewelz1642, AWeepingWillowTree, goldenhummingbird, Unicorn, justine, Marina, rebbecca1, ashlytorres24, RubyRav3n, Ellavm18, xAllTheDevilsAreHerex, SubmissivesRUs, Sarisol, FatimaH1995, thestorieswelove, RosesAreFlowers13, Abby, lilycody, Jenn and the guest reviewers - and of course everyone who followed, favd and read!**

**Today's special shoutout goes to Dillan - happy belated birthday, and I'm really sorry I didn't manage to upload in time for your special day! :)**

**I hope you'll all forgive me for the long wait. Please enjoy, and have the loveliest of Sundays! :)**

**Much love,**

**Sybille**

* * *

"We are here." In front of a massive double door of ancient wood in the heart of the lively Fifth Arrondissement, Klaus halted and pressed a gaudy, golden doorbell button. A sideways glance saw Caroline's eyes wandering up the facade, taking in the three-story town house whose front occupied almost half a block. Painted in pale yellow, the weathered building seemed to ooze history with its rows of large, ornate windows and the half dozen gargoyles staring down at the passersby with their timeless, unseeing eyes. Thrown on the present market, Klaus estimated the house's value to hover around thirty-five million U.S. dollars. Not only its prime location at spitting distance from the Île de la Cité and the Cathedral of Notre Dame made the property every real estate broker's wet dream; it also included two major gardens and a sizable outdoor swimming pool, both priceless amenities in a city where a simple one-room apartment was unaffordable on anything less than a VP's salary. This particular house, though, would never be sold. It had been in the same hands for the past three centuries, namely the hands of...

"Amaury_,_" Klaus beamed when one of the doors creaked open, revealing the property's owner, "I do hope we are not intruding."

The Frenchman's eyes revealed a split second of genuine bafflement, replaced diligently by his trademark ear-to-ear smile. "As if your visit could ever not be opportune, Klaus. I had high hopes to see you... and your little rogue."

"Caroline, this is Amaury de Lascasse. He heads up the supernatural community in Paris. Amaury, this is Caroline Forbes."

"Do come in, make yourselves at home," Amaury nodded, stepping aside, his gaze assessing Caroline who returned it with equal curiosity. Klaus couldn't keep his eyes from narrowing while he gauged her reaction. Of all the human and supernatural creatures he had encountered over the centuries, Amaury stood out like a Caravaggio among children's drawings. Tall and powerfully built, he possessed a face so striking it had prompted more than one little boy or girl in the streets to ask whether he was an angel sent from God. His cherubic features were framed by wavy, dark golden curls falling to his shoulders, and his singular appearance was complemented by a dazzling if somewhat superficial charm and a voice reminiscent of empyrean music. Klaus recalled joking with Elijah shortly after their first encounter with Amaury at Louis XIV's court around 1700, quipping how they had finally encountered the one man capable of leading them both to forsake women. Whilst their interest in the young French nobleman had not been of a sexual nature, both Mikaelson brothers had found themselves intrigued, each in his own way. Klaus' fascination had stemmed from the artist's appreciation of such singular beauty - and the vampire's recognition of the ruthless nature behind the stunning face. It made for a combination that had never failed to amuse him.

The way Caroline seemed as affected as any woman by Amaury's Prince Charming veneer did not amuse him in the least.

_Put a lid on your jealousy, Niklaus. It clouds your judgement, and there is no time for that now._

Pointing inside, the Frenchman suggested, "Can I persuade you to stay for dinner?"

Klaus inclined his head. "_Merci, mon ami_, but I do not think so. Although I have to confess I never quite managed to shed the memories of your chef - pray what was his name? The man you employed around the turn of the century?"

"Ah," Amaury nodded with genuine enthusiasm, "Thibaut. One of a kind indeed. His _canard à la presse _was beyond compare, was it not?"

"As was his _boeuf bourguignon_, not to mention that unbelievable _foie gras _he made. It surprises me that you never considered turning him."

Without a word, the other man flashed into what Klaus remembered was his private salon, returning in under a second, holding out a business card. "What do you think I am, a fool? Of course I turned him. This is the address of his business; he changes locations every few years for obvious reasons, but his cuisine is better than ever. It is increasingly hard, though, for a chef like him to maintain a low profile in the digital age."

"Bretagne," Klaus said after a glancing at the card and pocketing it, "I have not set foot there in a while." He cast a glance at Caroline who, to his boundless relief, had torn her eyes from their host and taken to inspect an enormous albeit amateurish painting of Amaury's late father on his war horse. How he would love to take her to Bretagne, show her the craggy Atlantic coast with its little fishing villages. "We shall see. Speaking of not setting foot, I am to pass on Damon Salvatore's best," he added, not bothering to hide his grin at Amaury's sour expression and Caroline's creased brows.

"Please tell me you are not acquainted with that... that _fils de putain_?"

"Stole something from you, did he?"

In a theatrical gesture, Amaury threw his hands up in the air. "A gentleman does not put a hand on what belongs to another," he said with a pointed look at Caroline, earning himself a scowl, "and Damon Salvatore is no gentleman. But you did not come to speak of that scum."

"Gods, no. We would like to see your gaols, my friend."

The Frenchman stuffed his hands in his pockets, scrutinizing first Klaus, then Caroline, then Klaus again. "The most beautiful city in the world is right at your feet. The Seine, the parks, the canals, the lights - hell, even that dreadful tower - and yet you desire to take a sunset stroll through my dungeons?"

Klaus shrugged. "The lady has peculiar preferences."

"Look who's talking," Caroline retorted, "I'm not the one who carried her family around in coffins for decades."

Amaury chuckled and gave her a wink. "You have seen nothing, _ma chère_. Your man here..."

"He's not my man," she interrupted, "we're just... friends."

For the duration of one schizophrenic moment, Klaus felt both ecstatic and crushed. Friends, they were. The question remained, what more than that? His face was carefully neutral when he said, "We do not have much time, Amaury, so I would be grateful if we could be on our way."

The other man's eyes darted back and forth between them before he gave a sigh and shook his head. "Drama, drama. Have a drink in the salon while I fetch my keys, and then we will leave. Oh, and Klaus, please try not to use Les Invalides as your personal _boudoir_. The spectacle you gave at the Panthéon with that young courtesan took decades to be forgotten."

"That was over two hundred years ago," the Original muttered, acutely aware of Caroline's raised brows.

"Some things change, some don't." With a suggestive snicker, the younger vampire swept out of the hall and flashed up a broad flight of red-carpeted stairs.

Deciding not to comment and hoping Caroline wouldn't, either, Klaus led the way towards the mirror-covered door of Amaury's opulent reception salon, a monument to a time long past when women's skirts were as wide as men's attire was colorful. He couldn't contain a quick grimace at the memories of his own clothing back then. The one ongoing challenge over the past thousand years had been the necessity to follow the dictate of contemporary fashion if one strove to blend in - and that particular period had been a fashionable nightmare. The tights, the silk, the feathers... Somewhere hidden in the depths of his Mystic Falls mansion lay a portrait he had crafted of Elijah in full courtier attire; he needed to remember to dig out the painting and hang it in their New Orleans residence. Although chances were that his older brother would never speak a word to him again. Yet where the male Mikaelsons recalled the era as being one large, single offense against good taste, Amaury did not share his viewpoint. The entire house gave the impression of a film set whose designer had embarked on a drug-fueled baroque craze.

He held the door open for Caroline and watched with a certain glee how her lips formed a condescending smirk when they stepped into the ballroom-sized salon. Two dozen turquoise chintz sofas were strategically scattered all over the room, clashing in a cringe-worthy manner with the thick red carpets and heavy green curtains. Ancient oil paintings depicting pastoral sceneries covered nearly every square inch of the walls, and what little space remained was tiled with mirrors - as was the whole ceiling. All furniture was either gilded or painted with gold lacquer.

"Huh," she muttered, turning back and forth while taking in the room, "weird, isn't he? He must be the single hottest guy on the planet, but one look at this plush-a-rama, and all horniness goes up in smoke. If this is what interior decoration used to be back in the day, I'm surprised humanity didn't go extinct. Who could procreate under these conditions?"

"Well, there was always the outdoors," Klaus pointed out with a conspiratorial grin. She always managed to lift his spirits in a matter of seconds. "Gardens, meadows... forests," he added as an afterthought, right before her earlier words sunk in.

_The single hottest guy on the planet._

Why was he surprised? Perhaps because the naive little boy he had once been had hoped that Caroline might be the one exception, the one woman not drawn to Amaury's pretty face. Well, it would seem he needed to grow up. Clearing his throat while battling down his stifling new bout of jealousy, he shrugged. "Few failed to find him attractive, and as far as I know, no-one was ever appalled enough by his penchant for decorative overindulgence to turn him down."

"Hard to imagine that Damon managed to take a girl from him, if that's what he did."

"Indeed. Drink?"

"No, thanks. I feel like I've fainted and woken up in Dangerous Liaisons; for all I know, the wine is poisoned." She gave him a small smile while wandering around the room, shaking her head every now and then. "He seems nice. Not at all like someone who runs a big vampire community."

"Not at all like me, you mean?" he asked.

"Not at all like you."

He chose a carafe of Absinthe, not bothering with sugar cubes and the other paraphernalia. After he had filled a sturdy crystal tumbler, he downed the drink at once. "He is not always warmth and charmth. I am not always the dark lord of terror."

"I know that." When he turned to look at her, glass still in hand, her face had softened. "I've seen what's underneath your Big Bad facade. I... wouldn't have slept with you otherwise."

"Caroline..."

"I have the keys," Amaury's cheerful voice sounded behind them as he dangled an ancient keyring, "shall we leave, _just friends_?"

With a charming smile of his own, Klaus turned to pat his shoulder. "I recall one of your house rules being no bloodshed before nightfall. I do hope strangulation is permissible, though."

It was only much later that he realized how long it had taken Amaury to fetch his keys.

* * *

Caroline saw heads turn as they climbed the steps leading into the monumental Hôtel des Invalides that housed, among others, the tomb of Napoléon Bonaparte. Many stared openly at Amaury who seemed entirely oblivious to the attention and made his way through the throngs of people with a confidence bordering on arrogance. After compelling the ticket inspector, he marched on as if he owned the place, without looking left or right, straight through the dome that protected Napoleon's sarcophagus and on to a side door concealed behind a gigantic pillar.

"What do you do after hours?" she asked as they filed down a narrow flight of stairs. Klaus walked very close behind her, and more than once, she felt like grabbing his hand. If she was to be honest, she had found his earlier display of well-hidden jealousy a little touching. Amaury was a work of art, and she could have stared at him for hours, but one fleeting look at Klaus had more of an effect on her than centuries of gaping at the French vampire could ever claim to have. And it worried her that she thought of these things it in spite of her still-churning inner storms. "Do you have a key to the main entrance?"

"I do, but I never use it. The main doors are too exposed, and one never knows who is watching - or filming - these days. At night, I take a delivery entrance in one of the lesser buildings. But I don't visit all that often."

They arrived at the bottom of the stairs and followed a long, winding corridor leading past half a dozen doors to both sides. At the end of the hallway, they came up in front of a heavy-looking metal door. Amaury produced his key ring and unlocked it. "The keys and lock are spelled," Klaus explained as he stopped next to her. "Amaury is the only one able to lock and unlock this door, and the one further down."

"What happens if you die?" Caroline asked bluntly.

"Then an archaeologist three thousand years from now will come across a very unpleasant surprise during excavations in this area," the Frenchman chuckled. Klaus snatched her arm as she was about to step through the door, gesturing for Amaury to walk ahead; his eyes never left the other man as he closed the door behind them, making Caroline wonder whether he was acting out of a healthy mistrust or outright paranoia. After all, he was the Original Hybrid, and he had known this guy for hundreds of years.

_Maybe that's why?_

This part of the building gave the impression of complete disconnection from the other. The corridor was no longer paved but made of irregular cobblestones sprinkled with soil and the occasional plank of rotting wood. The walls looked no better. Lighting consisted of a grimy, flickering bulb hanging from the low ceiling every ten yards, and Caroline could see no doors or any other signs of civilization. Without a warning, the corridor gave way to a steep flight of stairs leading further down. During their descent, she began to doubt her idea; it grew colder with every yard, the air was stale and humid, and her instincts called for her to run, to make it back up to where the light was, to escape the thick darkness. What had possessed her to want to see this?

It was at that precise moment that they reached another door, identical to the one above. While Amaury unlocked it, she suddenly felt Klaus' hand on hers. For the time it took Amaury to open the door, their fingers entwined, and when he withdrew his hand, he let it glide all the way up her arm. Without thinking, Caroline leaned back into him and allowed herself one delicious second of comfort from his body.

"Welcome to my humble correctional facility," Amaury said as he pulled the key from the lock and moved to the side. "After you."

"Oh, I insist, my friend - after _you_."

The Frenchman's smile didn't waver. He placed a hand on his heart. "I am wounded. All these centuries, and still you do not trust me?"

"A pet peeve. Think nothing of it," Klaus said pleasantly.

Amaury didn't seem to mind. With a shrug, he slipped through the door, and Caroline saw him reach for something to his right. A long line of neon lights sprang to life, momentarily blinding her; yet she was quick to recover. What she knew she would not recover from for a while was the sight that presented itself to her as she stepped into Amaury's prison.

Every flat surface was covered in bodies. They were sitting, leaning against walls, slumped on the ground, curled into balls. Few were standing, supporting themselves on the walls, and even fewer were moving. Quiet whispers and barely audible croaks and groans could be heard from different corners of the vast room that contained nothing but vampires in various states of desiccation. Only a couple of the prisoners could still muster the strength to cover their faces when the lights flared.

"All of my guests are repeat offenders and used to be members of my community; some of them have been down here for over two hundred years," Amaury said in the same cheerful tone that had invited them into his house. "Two of them, Perrin and Marie-Louise whom you can see at the far end on the wall to your right, will celebrate their two hundred and fiftieth anniversary next year. Most of the others come and go according to their trespasses. Rogue vampires who do not form part of our happy Parisian family and endanger our lives," he pursed his lips as he assessed her once more, "are usually executed on the spot."

Ignoring the stab, Caroline stared at the two shrunken shapes clad in the remainders of what once must have been clothes and now looked more like a collection of dirty dish rags stapled together. "What did they do?" she whispered, taking a couple of steps further into the room. "What on earth could they have done to deserve more than two centuries of... this?"

"They killed nearly fifty French vampires before we managed to take them down."

"Why didn't you kill them?"

The Frenchman gave her a somewhat condescending smile. "You are very young, Caroline. I believe you are still to discover that death is not necessarily a punishment. But to ease your mind, I am seriously considering granting them death next year as an anniversary present."

She looked back and forth between the dozens and dozens of languishing vampires, covered in dust, teetering somewhere on the fringes between life and death. They were the starkest of contrasts to the beautiful ruler of Paris. The thought of vegetating among them, even if it was for no more than a couple of days, frightened her more than she would ever admit. If hell existed, it couldn't look much different from this. Yet to her own astonishment, she wasn't upset at Klaus for threatening her with incarceration in this place. Anyone else would have simply compelled her to turn it back on. He hadn't. He had known how she felt about compulsion and thus given her a choice. Still... how could anyone run a place like this? Or even tolerate it?

"Have you ever spoken to them since they've been here?" Her tone was low and quiet, as if she was afraid of disturbing what little peace of mind these poor devils may have left. "Asked them why they killed all those vampires, and if they regret what they did?"

"They would say anything to get out of here. Why would I go through the trouble of an obsolete discussion?"

"Oh, you can read minds? Is that it? You know exactly what each of them is thinking? Impressive, I have to say. So when have you become God?" she demanded with sudden venom in her voice. Something inside her stirred. Came to life. Told her that she was beginning to detest this guy and his haughtiness.

"God doesn't exist. And my rule over life and death is no different from your man's. Or yours, for that matter. Have you not decided to end a man's life as recently as yesterday? Pray describe the difference to me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Klaus watching the exchange with great interest, although he did not move away from the door. Part of her liked that he didn't think it necessary to come to her aid, but a smaller part resented him a little for it, particularly as he knew that Amaury had hit a nerve - not that she planned on letting the arrogant son of a bitch see it. Klaus' words from the cemetery echoed through her mind as she returned her attention to Amaury.

"It's in a vampire's nature to kill. I followed my nature, and I bitterly regret it. I've fought it since the minute I was turned, sometimes successfully, other times not so much. This is no excuse, I know, and I'll need a very long time to come to terms with what I did - just as I'll continue to work on keeping this darker side of my nature in check for the rest of my existence. But what you do has nothing to do with our nature. This," she made a gesture encompassing the room, "didn't happen because you're having problems with blood cravings. It happened because you're a megalomaniac dick."

Both their heads whipped around when Klaus broke into a spontaneous chuckle. "What's so funny?" Caroline hissed.

"Nothing. Private joke. By all means, do carry on."

"Do you condone this?" she demanded, her incredulous eyes on his. "Do you approve of what Goldilocks is doing here?"

"His city, his rules."

"Do you have anything like this in New Orleans?"

"It is comparable, but much smaller in size and number of inmates."

"How many?"

"Two, currently. My dear mother and a witch. Let me phrase it like this - my vampires abide by my rules, hence I had no need to incarcerate any of them as of late."

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "And you two make the rules because..."

Klaus sighed. "Because someone has to. Societies do not function without them, love."

"What makes you lock up a vampire down here?" she demanded of Amaury whose smile had finally begun to flicker. "What are the rules?"

"They are quite simple," the Frenchman said with a hint of annoyance. He was obviously not used to justifying his actions, and had it not been for Klaus' presence, she was certain he would have snapped her neck twice already. "Do not kill fellow vampires unless in self-defense, do not expose our kind to the humans, do not leave behind incriminating evidence of your meals, do not touch what is mine, do not challenge my rule."

Bit by bit, the life that had begun bubbling inside her ever since this morning reared its head. She began to recognize herself, began to feel more and more of who she had been before her Mom had taken ill. The little flashes of her old self that Klaus had provoked in her throughout the day turned into thunder and lightning. And before she could grasp another rational thought, that old, impulsive self reached new heights of temerity. In a move too fast for Amaury to react, she crossed the short distance and snatched the key ring from him.

"I think I'm touching what's yours. Now what?"

Klaus straightened.

From one second to the next, Amaury's blinding smile returned. "I ask myself this - what will happen to your courage, or shall we call it reckless stupidity, when you do not have an Original by your side?"

Her own wide beam mirrored his, accompanied by her descending fangs and the familiar feeling of veins protruding underneath her eyes. "Klaus, why don't you go for a walk? Goldilocks and I would like some privacy."

"I believe the modern-day expression is _you've got to be kidding me_," Klaus countered, his voice filled with genuine disbelief. Disbelief that morphed into palpable menace when Amaury's face turned. It only made him more ridiculously beautiful. "_Mon ami_, I sincerely hope you are not planning on touching what is _mine_. And yes, Caroline, we can have a long, arduous argument about this once we are done here, but not now."

A sweet tingle raced town her spine, mixing with her adrenaline rush and the inexplicable hubris that had gripped her since the argument had started. In this very moment, she was sure she could take Amaury down, regardless of his being more than three hundred years her senior and about six foot six. She felt strong, full of life, invincible, although a tiny voice inside her head whispered that she was probably experiencing a similar phenomenon to the heightened taste of food and drink, and the more intense perception of colors, smells and sounds.

The Frenchman didn't seem to share her newfound chutzpah. "Very well, Klaus, then why do you not ask what is yours to return what is mine?"

"You have a mouth to speak. Ask her yourself."

In the ensuing silence, the subdued jingle of the half dozen keys on the ring sounded like church bells. Caroline and Amaury glared at each other, fangs bared, eyes glittering; neither spoke, neither moved, but from the corner of her eye she noticed tiny motions here and there as some of the ailing vampires attempted to raise their heads or change their positions to better see what was going on. Amaury finally eased out of his threatening stance, flashing a smile that screamed condescension.

"It would seem that you violated not one, but three of my rules. You took what is mine, and had it not been for Klaus' intervention, your little escapade at Père-Lachaise would have served to entertain hordes of police, coroners, and newspapers. Lastly, you are in the midst of defying me on my own soil, in front of an eclectic number of witnesses." He cast a glance at Klaus, then looked back at her. "How do you think your paramour here would respond to such acts of provocation?"

Before Klaus could say a word, she straightened to her full height. "I took what was his, and I defied him more than once. As you can see, my head's still on my shoulders."

"For one reason, and one reason only." A knowing expression entered his eyes. "Is it not so, _mon ami_?"

Pushing himself away from the door, Klaus came towards them at a measured pace, inconspicuously continuing to block Amaury's path to the exit. He grazed the back of her hand as he casually strolled past her, sending a little tremor into the tips of her fingers. His gaze scanned the room before it came to rest on Amaury. His dimples danced with an unexpected grin.

"We go back a while. I have entrusted you with what has been my city for many centuries, and you proved yourself a very capable leader who made intelligent and farsighted decisions." He sighed and let his head fall back as if examining the ceiling. Then he gave Amaury a sorrowful glance. "I very strongly suggest that you do not let today mark the beginning of a series of not quite so astute choices."

"So you will kill me if I hurt her?"

Klaus' smile widened. "No, mate, of course not." He gave the younger man a jovial pat on the back, and Caroline couldn't quench a fleeting surge of disappointment. She didn't want him to kill anyone over her, but a part of her that she kept carefully concealed from the world had always reveled in the knowledge that the Big Bad Original Hybrid would make mincemeat of anyone who dared to lay a hand on her. Amaury tossed her a dismissive glance before he returned Klaus' beam.

"I knew you wouldn't. Women come and go, but old friendships persist throughout the storms of time. Would you like her to remain here for some time, then?"

"Amaury de Lascasse. Connoisseur of women, fine wines, beauty and culture. A man of many talents, indeed you are - yet one aptitude you always lacked. You never learned to listen to what is not being said." Klaus pursed his lips in a mien of disappointment as he patted the other man's back anew. "I will not kill you if you hurt her, _mon ami_. I will kill you if you _touch_ her. If you hurt her, you will pray to every god you never believed in that I let you die."

Caroline's breathing faltered. His relaxed stance belied the ice-cold and almost evil glow in his eyes. She was looking at the Original who had come to Mystic Falls and scared the living daylights out of them all. The man who had first turned her knees into rubber at his family's ball when his eyes had found her in the doorway and his entire face had lit up with naked admiration. The man who had staked her to prove a point - and turned her knees into rubber again when his tongue had grazed her skin a split second before he had bitten her with all his might. The contrasts in him drove her crazy, and in more ways than one. They always had, they always would. She took a deep breath and was about to speak up when his head whipped around like an owl's and his gaze nailed her to the spot.

"As for you, love - much as I am delighted to see your spirits return, I am afraid I have to concur with our graceful host on one point." His gaze softened infinitesimally. "You are breaking his rules. So unless you plan to lead a horde of immobilized, desiccated vampires to revolution, you might want to reconsider."

"And if I don't?" Her sensible side knew she was brewing a storm in a teacup, starting an altercation she couldn't hope to win, but she wasn't ready to give up. She wanted more of the _Caroline_ feeling, more of herself, and if provoking the angel-faced Devil of Paris got her there, then so be it.

"Then do not expect me to listen to your complaints after Amaury kicks your beautiful backside," Klaus countered. "Your senses are currently all over the place, you're not thinking straight, and you're facing an opponent who is not only centuries older, but also versed in battle in a way you could never dream to be. I do not doubt your resolution and strength for one second, Caroline, but there comes a moment before any fight when you have to decide whether it is worth fighting, and whether you do stand a chance at winning it."

"How did I ever forget about that philosophic streak of yours?" Amaury muttered into the silence.

Caroline put her hands on her hips, glowering at the Original. "Oh, and you never fought a fight you knew you couldn't win?"

"Dozens. Which is why I know what I am talking about."

His answer disarmed her a bit, but instead of admitting it, she rattled the keys and gave him a lopsided smile. "Didn't you say just a minute ago that you'll draw and quarter him if he hurts me?"

"I changed my mind," he said with an air of nonchalance that belied his gleaming eyes. "You seem to be dead set on picking a fight, and given that I am a) on a schedule and b) beginning to tire of this, I would propose we find a more opportune venue and you two get it over with." He gestured towards the door and nodded at Amaury. "Miss Forbes will return the keys to you once we're outside."

For a minute, no-one spoke; then, with visibly reluctant steps, both Caroline and Amaury marched towards the door. Caroline slipped through it first, followed by the men, and cast a last, long look into the vampire prison with its doomed inmates. A lone arm rose from the ground, an arm whose owner she couldn't discern in the tangled mass of bodies. Her heart gave an uncomfortable jolt at the sight, and another one when she realized something. She would come back here one day. She had no idea how or when or why, but she would see them again. Just as the bustling humans at the café this morning, they had become a part of her life. A different, more intense part that felt... more real somehow.

Klaus had been right.

This was her nature now. Her kind, no matter how depraved, made her feel completely and utterly alive. And her humanity, that thing she would have to fight for the remainder of her existence to retain, defined who she was within her kind and beyond her nature. It was her choice, and hers alone. Her Mom had said it on her deathbed - there was nothing she couldn't be. And whatever the future brought, no matter what she saw or experienced, she would never become what Amaury was. A rotten soul with the face of a cherub.

She turned to look him straight in the eye, studying his divine features with meticulousness, and she saw him. She saw a man filled with cruelty and lust for power who had never been hindered by a conscience, perhaps not even back in his human days. And while it was a description that fit not only Amaury, but also Klaus to the dot, one decisive distinction separated the two: the Original had never truly given up on his humanity. He lost the fight for it more often than not, but he still fought. After a thousand years. The realization affected her more than she had anticipated, and it made staring into Amaury's face unpleasant to an unprecedented extent. But she held her ground, as did Amaury.

The long glance of exquisite animosity they exchanged was unmistakable in its meaning. Caroline Forbes had just made her first true enemy.

Without a word, she handed the Frenchman the keys and watched him switch off the light and lock the door. They made their way back to the surface in dense silence. Caroline felt Klaus' wary eyes on her as they walked; she sensed something beyond his annoyance and worry over her and wondered what it could be.

Her intuition proved accurate when they exited Les Invalides via the alternative door Amaury had described upon their arrival. Low and quiet, Klaus' sudden hiss sounded like a whiplash.

"Before we leave, _mon ami_, do have the kindness of revealing who you informed of our encounter while pretending to collect your keys."

* * *

Both Caroline and Amaury gaped at Klaus, perplexed.

"What in the name of bloody hell gave you that idea?" Amaury demanded with just the appropriate amount of self-righteous indignation. Klaus had to grant it to him - as far as performances went, it was convincing.

"I have been accused of many things over the centuries, but stupidity was never one of them," he retorted, shaking his head, "which is why I am all the more disappointed. You should have known better, or at least made a greater effort at deceiving me. Who have you alerted?"

Something changed in the other vampire's face. His voice was more guarded this time. "Klaus, I assure you..."

"Unlock your phone and hand it to me." He approached Amaury, positioning himself between the Frenchman and Caroline. Their spontaneous enmity had amused him for a moment, not to mention his relief at discovering that his lovely girl constituted the exception to the rule after all - she was not at all interested in the other man. Yet after overcoming his initial entertainment, it had taken him mere seconds to gather the depth of their animosity. Amaury's sentiments came as no surprise - the man hated nearly everyone on sight, and a mere provocative look in his direction, let alone full-scale provocation, had cost many a vampire his head. What truly disquieted him, though, was Caroline. The wild determination in her eyes when she had challenged Paris's ruler had filled him with an equally wild rush of pride, one that had quickly been replaced by apprehension in the light of how her rationality had yet to return after the emotional roller coaster of the past day. So he had opted for a diversion that would kill two birds with one stone - taking the focus off Caroline's unexpected crusade and confirm his own lingering suspicions about Amaury.

"I am very offended that you would deem it necessary to question my word." The younger vampire rose to his full height, and Klaus nearly had to smile. Amaury was a wee bit taller and often used his height to intimidate fellow vampires. A reflex reaction, probably. He tsked.

"Mate, pray do recall who you are speaking to. Hand me your phone. I will not say it again."

Amaury hesitated, then seemed to come to the correct conclusion - he had no choice. He extracted his phone from his pocket in slow motion and laboriously typed in the security code before holding it out to Klaus whose eyes remained fixed on him while he took the device. Only after another few seconds did he lower his gaze to the phone - and miscalculated.

For his one instant of deflected attention was all the distraction Amaury required.

In less time than it took Klaus to blink, Caroline was trapped in the other man's stranglehold. With a stake pointed at her heart.

* * *

Klaus' veins turned to ice, as did every last drop of his blood.

"Remind me, mate," he said once he could be certain his voice was pleasant and steady enough not to betray the cold stab of fear that held him hostage, "of what was to happen once you touched her."

"I will let her go as soon as you give me my phone and leave Paris."

"Your phone? Interesting indeed. So you _did _alert someone of my presence." He rolled his eyes at the light flicker on Amaury's face. "Oh, come on. Seventeen-year-old witches may fall for this, but you? Anyway, I have another suggestion. You let her go now, and I give you my word that your death will be quick and painless. For old times' sake." In the loaded silence, he finally took a good look at Caroline. She struggled against her captor, trying in vain to tear his arm from around her throat or elbow him with enough force to free herself, albeit with little success. When his gaze met hers, Klaus' breath caught. Her eyes held no fear, merely a blend of anger, concentration... and the very purest form of life.

Caroline's light. It was back.

He had observed brief glimpses of it over the course of the day, but this, right there, was the beautiful, vivacious, infinitely strong girl he had first set his sights and heart on. Even her dark side held its appeals, and he would gladly content himself with it, yet her light would always bring him to his knees. The absurdity of the moment was not lost on him; here he stood, facing an enemy who had deceived him and was threatening Caroline, but instead of the old, familiar wrath at being challenged, all he felt was the connection between himself and her. He had not needed much time to fall in love with her, yet it had not been until this very second that he realized how far he was gone. No amount of time would suffice to tear her out of his heart and soul again.

"I am afraid I must decline," Amaury pulled him from his reverie. Nothing was left of the Frenchman's amiable mien; his face had become the hard and unrelenting mirror of who he was beneath the flamboyant facade. "Go. Or she dies."

"Do you honestly believe you can hide from me? You are a dead man regardless of her fate, for there is no place on this Earth where I won't find you." His eyes narrowed as he examined the phone again. "And you knew that before you defied me and threatened my... and threatened Caroline. Which leads us to one conclusion."

"He fears you less than the guy he called," Caroline interjected, her voice raspy from the pressure of Amaury's arm against her throat. She lifted a brow and gave a mirthless smile. "Sounds like Daddy Original, if you ask me."

Klaus beamed at her with an appreciative nod. "Just so. But let us make certain." He pulled up the calls menu and chose the last number dialed. The wait wasn't a long one.

_"__Yes?"_

And after a thousand years of being the most powerful creature on the planet, this one voice still managed to convert him into the frightened, mishandled youth he had once been. His secret shame... one that would never go away and that he would never share.

"Dearest father, how delightful," he said over the lump in his throat, garnering his tone with false cheer. "I trust you are well?"

There was a brief silence on the other end during which Klaus strained his ears to identify background noises. He couldn't hear much, but something told him Mikael was near water. Hadn't there been a bird? A pelican? A bloody _Louisiana_ pelican? Another cold shiver froze his system.

Elijah. Rebekah.

He needed to return home, and he needed to do so with no further delay.

_"__Niklaus. Cavorting around in Paris like the good-for-nothing waster that you are. I am sorry, boy, but I have no time for idle chit-chat, as I am certain you will understand. Do give my best to that useless French bastard and tell him that I shall pay him a courtesy visit once my work here is done."_

The line went dead.

"Well, _mon ami_," Klaus grinned while carelessly tossing the phone to the ground and swallowing his rising discomfort, "it would seem that you managed to make two mortal enemies in less than one hour." His eyes found Caroline, and within all the commotion, he wanted nothing more than to feel her huddled up in his arms like the previous night. Instead, he gave her a nod. "I apologize. Three."

To his eternal delight, Caroline, too, grinned from ear to ear. "I was just about to snap at you for leaving me out of the mortal enemy count."

Amaury was oblivious of their exchange. The magnitude of what had just happened and of what awaited him began to sink in, and every second of it was displayed in his eyes with no filter. He had antagonized the Original Hybrid and failed the latter's Original stepfather, and he knew both of them long and well enough to comprehend that notwithstanding the outcome of their feud, his life was no longer worth a sou. His centuries-old reign over his city had ended as of this minute.

And, most importantly, his mind was absent for a split second.

Yet before Klaus could even think of making his move, Caroline seemed to come to the same conclusion. Within a heartbeat, her face turned - and she sank her teeth into the arm that held her hostage. He saw Amaury return to the present, and he saw his hand. The stake.

_No time to take it from him. But time to..._

The split second the sharpened wood grazed Caroline's skin, Klaus slammed into the two of them. The Frenchman plunged the stake into her chest and shoved her away, straight into Klaus' arms. He caught her before she fell, and with a subdued groan of horror, pulled out the stake. Whilst his attack had diverted it from its aim in such a way that it had failed to perforate her heart, the sight of it protruding from her chest still managed to nearly give him a stroke. It made no difference that Amaury had already vanished. It made no difference that he wanted to tear the Frenchman apart with his bare teeth and carve out his heart with a tea spoon. All he saw was the pain on Caroline's face and the wound in her chest.

"Love," he said quietly, running his knuckles over her cheek, "we do need to work on our coordination." It was not what he wanted to say, but everything else that spontaneously sprang to mind included either a vow of eternal love, a marriage proposal, or something equally soppy.

Caroline bit her lip, weathering the pain like the queen she would always be in his eyes. "Go get him. I'll be fine."

"No." He shook his head. "Let him run. He will do little else in the near future. I will go for him once my more pressing problems are resolved, and I want him to spend a few months looking over his shoulder at every turn, lying awake listening to every hiss and scratch in the night and wondering when it will finally happen."

"Sounds like you know what you're talking about," she said, breathing more regularly and straightening out of her pain-induced crouch. He searched for sarcasm in her tone but found none.

"I do." He chuckled. "Should it have escaped your attention, I always know what I'm talking about."

"You wish. Klaus, this guy will run, and he has a good advance now. It could take you years to find him again."

"I can be patient when I want to be. This is a question of priorities."

"I know." For the first time since returning to life, she really, truly looked at him. _Through_ him. "You have much to do back in New Orleans. Your brother needs your help, your parents are after you again... and you put it all aside to rush to Paris and find me. What kind of a priority order is that?"

Her wound had healed, but neither of them paid any attention to it. Klaus shook his head once and damned all the consequences to hell. "You want me to say it, Caroline? Fine. Then listen."

His lips crushed hers with all the desperate, pent-up feelings he had suppressed since the day in the woods. Her sweet scent flooded his system, followed by a tidal wave of desire when he tasted her - and felt her immediate, heated response. Her lips parted, and it was her tongue that sought his. He let her find him, and when she did, she reversed their roles. All of a sudden, she was the one pulling him out of the darkness, bringing him to life and touching what was left of his soul. Everything was beauty, bliss, and fire. Neither of them noticed how he slammed her into the wall, but they were more than aware of their hands in a frantic race to touch, to feel, their lips and tongues burning each other through and through, their blood thundering in their veins. He was helpless against the merciless explosion of lust when his mouth found the fragrant skin of her neck and she allowed a deep, throaty moan to escape her swollen lips. Her hands knotted in his hair, pressing his lips against her, demanding more, more... _more._ By all the gods, how he wanted her! Here, now, against the wall, on the hood of a car, on the sidewalk... he needed her as she needed him, and nothing else mattered. Visions danced before his inner eye, visions of Caroline writhing underneath him, shivering with his every touch, making him shiver with the way her tight heat surrounded him...

"Klaus," she whispered, followed by another moan when he let his tongue discover the nape of her neck, "please... you have to stop... because I can't."

"Why?" was all his lovelorn, heavily aroused self managed to ask before giving itself over to the intoxicating thought of licking every inch of her soft, delicious skin until she cried from pleasure.

She made a cat-in-cream sound as her hands found the hem of his shirt and pushed it up. The tips of her fingers traced his back, his sides... and this time, the moan was his. "I'm not in my right mind today," she muttered, biting her lip, "and I want to be in my right mind for this."

He could have screamed with frustration, regardless of how much of a point she had, and of how much he needed her to be herself when he made love to her. But this other need, his own, deeply buried need for her light and for this very particular intimacy he had never shared with another woman before her was so much stronger than reason. The agony he felt when he retreated with one last, lingering, wet kiss to her neck was so acute and real it made him bite his own tongue until he tasted blood. It helped, but the soft glow remained and demanded to be stoked into a fire again. He cupped her cheek as his eyes found hers, and once more, his breath hitched. His pain was reflected on her lovely face, as was his profound need.

"Sorry," was all she said. She swallowed and held his gaze, her fingers trembling against the bare skin of his back. For some reason, it was that slight tremor that brought him back to Planet Earth.

"No, I am." He lifted a hand when she wanted to speak. "You accused me of coming to Paris in search of round two, and whilst it wasn't my actual intention, I would not have said no. QED," he added with a lopsided smile. "I would not have said no in full knowledge of how this is the worst possible moment. I'm very good at choosing worst possible moments."

"Join the club."

"Caroline," he went on, his own voice feeble, "can I ask something of you?" She nodded, her hands tenderly moving over his back. "Do stop touching me like that if you wish for me never to bother you again after we part ways today."

Their eyes were locked in their own silent magic, and neither of them breathed... as Caroline continued to stroke him with featherlight touches. Hours seemed to pass while they stayed immersed in each other, blending out all confusion, turmoil and dread. Blending out reality. In the end, it was Caroline who heaved a sigh and closed her eyes.

"You have to go."

"You will, too. You're not staying here, and you will give both Mystic Falls and New Orleans a wide berth until I have the situation under control. But before anything else, there is one open issue, love." He looked at her with far greater serenity than he felt. "Your humanity. I want your word that you will not turn it off again."

"That wasn't the deal," she countered. "The deal was that you'll accept my decision whatever it turns out to be."

"After twenty-five hours, a time frame I cannot make full use of. I need to return immediately, but not before I don't have your word that you will keep your humanity, and not before I haven't put you on a plane to a destination of your choosing outside of Europe and the U.S."

"I'll stay. I'll find Amaury."

Had he felt an icy lightning of anxiety at the sight of the stake pointed at her heart, it had been nothing compared to the bitter, deadly fear that rose inside him now. "You will do no such thing." He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. "Your emotions are not only in a hubbub when it comes to me, Caroline. They also are where Amaury is concerned. What you did in that gaol, whilst out of the best intentions, was irrational and stupid. If you face him alone, you will lose, at least for the time being. Amaury no longer has anything to lose, he has already lost it all today, and a desperate man with fear for his life and nothing to lose is the most dangerous creature on Earth, even more so in light of what happened between you two. Look me in the eyes and tell me you understand that."

"But..."

"No buts. Not this time. On this one occasion, I won't accept opposition from you. I can't take you to New Orleans, and I can't watch over you as long as Mikael and Esther roam free; I need to depend on your common sense. He will meet his fate, I give you my word, and I want you to give me yours that you will leave Europe and keep your humanity even after you will be able to turn it back off."

She debated with herself, and judging by her vivid face, it was a strenuous argument. "Fine," she pressed out between clenched teeth, "I agree to leave Europe for now. And what do you mean, once I'm _able_ to turn it back off? I can do that right now!"

He felt no smugness or triumph at what he said next - but then he had never felt that around her. "I fear you can't. After emotions are being turned back on, your emotions need some days to settle. The mechanics of the switch, for lack of a better word, do not function during that time."

"You tricked me, then. It was never going to be just for a day." To his surprise, he detected no heat in her response, or in her mien. So he shook his head.

"Not entirely. The deal was that I would accept your decision after our time was up. There was never any mention of anything else."

Once again, he expected her to at least slap him, but once again, she didn't do what he anticipated - she smiled a little. "Well played, Big Bad. I guess that makes us even after all those times I tried to trick you." With a nod, she added, "I'm sorry, Klaus, but I can't give you my word."

Klaus stepped back, briefly unsettled by the loss of her touch, and stared at her. After those past hours that had seen her light and spirits return little by little, he had not even considered the possibility that she might still want to switch it back off. He made no effort to hide his irritation as he folded his arms across his chest.

"And why not, if I may ask?"

"You may," she shot back, making his lips twitch against his will. "Klaus, ever since I've turned it back on, I haven't had a second to myself. You programmed the heck out of me with that Paris tour, your therapist antics - not to mention our little Goldilocks drama. I have to be with myself for a while, I need time to mourn my Mom, and I honestly can't tell you how that'll go. But... I'll remember what you said to me today. I'll remember every word. You said a few things I find pretty hard to digest." With a wink, she deadpanned, "If I turn it back off, you can always propose a new deal." The teasing disappeared from her tone when she added, "You'll always find me, won't you?"

He was still fighting down his urge to handcuff her to him, just to make sure she didn't do anything stupid, but for the first time in his life, his natural instinct to retain the tightest of controls over everything and everyone rescinded in favor of... the right thing to do for her. After a couple of deep breaths, he nodded, admitting to himself how few things had ever been this hard for him to say. "I trust you, Caroline. What you do, you'll do for yourself, remember that. Not for your mother, not for your friends."

"Or you."

"Or me." He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Tell me, out of the things I said, which was the hardest for you to take?"

The answer came without hesitation. "That you consider me your family."

A strong ray of pain shot through him, but he kept it at bay and merely inclined his head. "Because the idea repels you."

Caroline Forbes had a habit of always catching him off-guard, but what she did next pulled the ground from under his feet. She gathered him close and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his temple. "No. Because I didn't find it in me to protest."

* * *

They had been silent on their way to the airport. Klaus was still reeling from her last words, and Caroline, too, seemed lost in thought. She hadn't argued any further over his demand that she leave Europe and remain in hiding until he had taken care of Esther and Mikael. He had asked her not to disclose her destination to anyone, himself included, and to merely let him know once her decision on her humanity was made.

Arriving in front of the Air France terminal, the cab halted. It would take him on to Orly where his private plane was waiting; Charles de Gaulle was a major detour, but he needed a few more minutes with her, and he needed to make certain that stubborn Miss Forbes did get to the bloody airport and wouldn't spontaneously decide to go on a hunt for disgraced French vampires after all.

"What happens to the vampires in Amaury's prison?" she asked, looking out of the window at the hordes of passengers hurrying in and out of the terminal.

"We will see. Another matter of priorities. I will need to find the witch who composed the original spell, and I might consider doing so eventually. Caroline..."

_I don't want to leave. I don't want you to leave me._

He gave her a small smile. "Do take care of yourself."

"Isn't this traditionally the moment where you ask me if I'll be okay?"

"No need." His insides twisted and convulsed, and he hated the feeling with undying passion. "I know you will be."

Caroline turned to look at him with big, quizzical eyes. "How?"

"Because that is the only way I can picture you without losing my mind."

Her lively blue eyes widened further. She said nothing, but she did not have to. The hand that took his and squeezed it said enough. They remained immersed in each other for a long while, unwilling to part... unwilling to do what needed to be done while putting their unresolved issues on ice for an indefinite period. Caroline's voice quivered with some unnamed emotion when she spoke up. "Take care of yourself, too, okay? Tell Stefan and Damon that I'm sorry to have caused them so much trouble, and that I... thank them for what they did. I'll see them as soon as you guys win the war."

"Very well." He cursed his weakness as he yanked her into his arms and framed her face with his hands. "Love, Mikael is as clever as Amaury is observant. He made his deductions from what Amaury told him and thus knows that you play a role in my life. I don't want him to learn of the extent of that role." He closed his eyes when she covered his hands with hers. "Stay away from the U.S. Should you happen across Amaury, which I seriously doubt given that a man of his tastes will not leave Europe even when his life is at stake, kill him, or run. Immediately. No discussions, no drama, no nothing, do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will inform you once it is safe for you to return home. Should you need to change phones, let me know your new number."

"You'll defeat your parents, won't you?" The unmistakable concern in her voice was lovelier than any song he had heard in his long life.

"I did it once, I will do it again." Raising a brow, he grinned. "You could call it my side job."

She gave a little scoff. "Your day job being The Plague?"

"Nice. You make me sound like a superhero."

"Oh please! You couldn't pull off the spandex in a million years!"

They gazed at each other and had to chuckle. Klaus released Caroline and nodded at the door. "Go." He would have loved nothing more than to pull her in for one final kiss, but he knew he could never let her go if he did. She seemed to share his sentiment and skidded to the door, opening and closing it very slowly. Only when she already stood on the curb did she turn around, leaning into the lowered window.

"What did I say to you? Last night, in my sleep?"

He conceded himself one last, delicious look at her, imprinting her beautiful frame and lively face in his mind for what he knew would be the remainder of eternity. Only then did he repeat the words that had warmed and made him smile for hours and that he would replay to himself every day until he saw her again.

"_Been waiting, Klaus. What took you so long?"_


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again, dearies - here we go, the final chapter is up. I decided to leave it at its full length after all, I hope you don't mind! ;)**

**I think I said it once in an author's note for one of my other stories: Receiving a new review notification is a little bit like getting a text from someone you have a crush on. It's hard to explain just how much your reviews mean to me, and I'll go back to reading each and every one of them over the next months when I'm buried in the work on my book. There are so many moments of doubt - sometimes I SO hate what I've written - but it's your lovely comments that keep me going. Should that book ever see the light of day, you guys aren't the least of reasons for it!**

**Once again, all the bear hugs in the world go to Angelikah, Anoni Mos666, landofthegolden, Submissives-R-Us, MsCindz, chuck101, Lynnevampire, MissTranquility, Venus88, Salsmy, lilycody, Ellavm18, chillwithJyl, Jewelz1642, ahslytorres24, aj, justine, Marina, Klarolineblossom, Jenn, eveli, SweetyK, Abby, Bonhoor, tate4eva, Hazel21, Rosesareflowers13, rebbecca1, Justanotherfiveminutes, Dillan, FatimaH1995, goldenhummingbird, PinkTrinityRose and the guest reviewers, new favs and follows and readers. (On a sidenote - people, how do you come up with some of those awesome names?! :))**

**Shoutout of the day goes to CKhybrid. Lady, you cracked me up - with those same words ("you KNOW you want to") I was once talked into buying an iPad. ;) And yes, I _do_ want to... but the revolution story will have to wait for a while, I fear. ;)**

**Thanks to everyone who tagged along for the ride. Please enjoy, and remember - you're just amazing. ****I. LOVE. YOU. GUYS!**

**Much love**

**Sybille**

* * *

Mystic Falls seemed different.

Caroline walked the streets at human speed, taking in every detail of the town that had been the center of her existence for so many years. Houses, the park, her school, the people... they all seemed alien to her, although not a single pebble or flower looked out of place. Which made her lingering suspicion grow more pronounced with every step and every yard she advanced - Mystic Falls hadn't changed at all. She had, and more thoroughly than anyone including herself would have predicted. Anyone... except perhaps Klaus. Her thoughts wandered to a night a lifetime ago, a night that had seen the Original make a frighteningly accurate prediction.

_Small town boy, small town life. It won't be enough for you._

She nearly had to smile at the memories of her outraged old self, head filled with Tyler and all the big and small commotion plaguing her hometown at the time. Klaus had known her even then, far better than she had known herself, but it had taken her until this day to fully concede that he had been right about her and Mystic Falls all along.

Shaking her head at herself, she felt her heart pick up speed as she opened the little gate that led to the cemetery. Sleep had evaded her ever since Klaus' text two days ago had informed her that it was now safe for her to return to the States, and to Mystic Falls if she wished to. That had been all. Not a single word about New Orleans, or about joining him elsewhere. For some reason, the brief, impersonal text had tugged at her, especially in light of the fact that it had been their only communication apart from the one message she had sent him three days after they had parted ways.

**I won't turn it off again. I'm not doing this for you, but I want you to know that I wouldn't have made this decision without you.**

His lack of response had hurt, but she had also been a little relieved. Whatever his answer, it would have occupied her mind, and there had been little space for anything besides herself in the first few weeks after Paris. Other than his concerns for her safety, she didn't have a clue as to why he had never tried to contact her during those six months; the further her healing process advanced, the more prominent the question had grown. Bit by bit, she had found herself less preoccupied with herself and more with Klaus and everything he had done for her. With his safety. With the wish... to see him again. The discovery that she missed him more with each passing day had haunted her, so much so that she had almost reached the point of calling him in blatant disregard of his instructions - but his text had beat her to it. She had dropped everything, left everything behind and jumped on the next plane. She needed to face him, to see if those feelings that had constantly grown over the course of her exile were as real and solid as she believed them to be.

But prior to meeting her fate, there was someone else she had to visit.

Liz Forbes' final resting place lay tucked away in a lovely, remote corner of the cemetery, framed by a couple of birches. Fresh flowers of various shapes and colors adorned the grave, giving it an almost cheerful look that brought a smile to her face and tears to her eyes. Someone had been looking after Liz all this time, and it touched her to the same extent that it humbled her. Very gradually, she lifted her gaze from the lovely little flowers to the simple, tasteful tombstone.

_In Memory of_

_Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes_

_Loving Mother_

_Loyal Friend_

_Devoted Citizen_

"Mom," Caroline whispered as she sank to her knees, "Can you forgive me?"

She had been so sure that the past months had left her with no further tears to cry. Hours, days had she spent mourning her mother, her grief reinforced by the preceding year of suppression; her first tear-free day had dawned a full six weeks after her departure from Paris. Things had gone uphill from there, a steady development that rendered her thick tears and breaking heart all the more powerful as she faced Liz now. Not bothering to cover her face, she stared at her Mom's name on the stone while she wept and wept, remembering, feeling, wishing, loving. But throughout it all, she sensed none of the black despair and near-madness of the day Liz had died, and it could not merely be attributed to the obvious fact that time had passed. Her pain was real and solid, yet she knew she would bear it. The fabled strength her mother had been so certain she possessed - she had found it in herself over the course of her involuntary exile, and she had no words for what it meant to her that Liz had believed in her so strongly. Liz... and someone else.

The sun wandered over the clear blue skies until her sobs finally faded into quiet sniffles. Rummaging through her purse, Caroline produced a tissue and dabbed at her eyes while settling on the ground cross-legged and giving the tombstone a faint smile.

"Hi, Mom," she muttered with a sheepish expression, "sorry about that. I didn't mean to blubber all the time. How are you up there? Ugh, stupid question - it's probably all fun and games and booze in heaven. At least I hope it is." She inhaled shakily. "Look, let me get the heavy stuff off my chest right now, okay?" Another crying jag threatened its way to the surface, but this time she mastered it. "What I did is unforgivable. I abandoned you the second you closed your eyes, I wasn't there to arrange your funeral, I wasn't there _for_ your funeral, and I didn't give a single thought to what would happen with your grave, let alone the house and our belongings. I ran away to turn into a monster. And... the irony is that of all the monsters out there, it was the greatest that brought me back."

She began to talk to Liz of her year without humanity, of her encounter with Klaus, of their fateful day in Paris. Of how she had left for Singapore, of her first few days there.

"You know, Mom, there were times that I wanted to turn it back off. On my second evening, I was at this amazing rooftop bar overlooking Marina Bay. I had the best cocktail of my life, the atmosphere was incredible, people were laughing and chatting all around me... and I just sat there wondering how I could ever become a part of all that again. I... I tried, that night. I tried to turn it back off, but I couldn't. I thought Klaus had lied to me when said it wouldn't work for some time, but it was true. A few days later, I tried again. I could've done it that time; I felt the switch, I knew the mechanics, and still I was incapable of doing it. I gave the reasons a lot of thought, and I think I know now what stopped me. The first thing was something you said, Mom. You told me to find my life. With my humanity off, I could never find the life that is meant to be mine. Lives, I should say, because I think there will be more than one. The other thing that stopped me from turning it off again was... Klaus. Yeah, I know how that sounds." For a moment, she couldn't shake the weird vision of her Mom rolling her eyes and chuckling up in heaven. Or wherever else. "Let me explain. We often forget just how old Klaus is and how much he has seen. He asked me a question that day in Paris, a question that really got to me. He asked me if I wanted to spend my life with _easy_. And in that crazy moment when I tried to turn it off, I kept thinking about his words and what they meant. And here's the thing - Klaus is a thousand years old and still not tired of life. He doesn't run away, and he isn't weary of all the challenges and problems. Then how can I be tired of it all after no more than a couple of years? And how can I want to run away?"

For almost an hour, she spoke without pause, explaining how that night had shaped her decision to opt for life instead of a mere existence. She told her Mom about the trips she had made from Singapore to Bangkok, Hong Kong, Saigon and a dozen other places in Asia, about the people she had met, the new friends she had cautiously begun to make after some time. About the job at Singapore Expo she had taken on to give herself something to do, and the events and fairs she had attended.

And about the twist in her stomach when she had received Klaus' message.

Caroline plucked a pink pansy and studied it for a little while. "So many things have happened, and even more things have changed, but I think I what changed most of all is me. Do you remember how I used to think everything was either good or bad, with nothing in between? Today, I find it hard to believe I was ever that naive." She gave a low chuckle as her gaze returned to the gravestone. "There are so many layers, aren't there? And that's why the longer I know him, the more layers I see behind his darkness."

She rose to her feet and rounded the grave to kneel next to the stone, placing both hands flat against the smooth surface and resting her forehead against it.

"I love you so much, Mom. I miss you every day, and if I had only one wish, it would be more time with you. If I live to be a hundred thousand, I'll never stop loving you, and that's why I guess I kind of want to ask for your blessing." Her voice lowered to a strangled whisper. "I know who he is, and what he is. But I... I can't get him out of my head, and I still find it hard to believe that he of all people saw me as I am before anyone else ever even thought of getting to know me. That he came for me in the midst of the biggest threat and did just the right thing to bring me back." She closed her eyes and ran a hand along the top of the stone. "I need to find out if he was right about what he said at my graduation, Mom. I have to go see him."

"You're not going anywhere without buying me a drink first," a gentle, familiar voice sounded from the pathway.

* * *

"Stefan!"

Caroline jumped to her feet and, without thinking, stormed towards her friend, only to stop dead a couple of inches away, gripped by the remembrance of their last encounter a year and half ago. Had she lost the right to call him a friend? Before she could say anything, Stefan grimaced. With two steps, he bridged the distance and pulled her into a bear hug.

"Don't be an idiot. Again."

The tension inside her evaporated as she returned his hug wholeheartedly, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm so sorry, Stefan. That day, I just didn't..."

"No apologies necessary. You're back, you're _Caroline_, and that's all that matters. Although the next time you choose to run off to God knows where, leave a hint at the continent."

She giggled, Stefan grinned - and eighteen months of estrangement disappeared without a trace. One of the characteristics of true friendship, she mused while leaving his embrace to take a good look at him. "When did you get back from New Orleans?"

"About three weeks ago, although we returned there a number of times since then. Seems Klaus trusts us over his own people, although I can't imagine why."

"You're loyal, both of you. That's why," she nodded, deciding to leave it at that for the moment. Then she turned to examine Liz's grave again, gesturing at the flowers. "I guess I have you to thank for this? It's lovely, Stefan. So vivid. She would have liked it."

To her surprise, he shook his head. "Nope. Not my doing."

"Elena?"

"Try again."

Had she been drinking, she would have spewed the contents of her glass all over the place as she gaped at the younger Salvatore with incredulous eyes. "_Damon_? You're saying Damon has been looking after my Mom's grave?"

"He planted the flowers himself."

"Excuse me, I think I need to sit down," Caroline quipped, trying to picture Damon Salvatore seeding little pink flowers. She didn't seem to possess enough of an imagination. "Why would he do that?"

"He liked your Mom a lot, in his own funny way. And believe it or not, he likes you, too. There are not many people Damon likes, you know." Stefan let his eyes wander over the flower bed and to the tombstone. "You won't be staying long, I gather?"

She followed his gaze. "How is he, Stefan?"

"Why don't we head over to The Grill and have a drink and some dinner? What do you think?"

Minutes later, they were seated at one of the more secluded tables. After placing their order, Stefan leaned back in his chair. "He defeated his parents, although they're not dead. But where they are now, they can't cause any harm, nor can they contact anyone on this side or the other. Many witches died that day, and many more have been locked up in this Garden of his together with a number of vampires who tried to help them."

A burst of something she couldn't name coursed through her entire system. It felt like relief, only tenfold as strong. "So he won."

"In a sense, yes." Stefan grabbed the glass the waiter had only just placed on the table and took a large swig. Caroline didn't pay any attention to her own drink as her eyes remained fixed on her friend.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

With a heavy sigh, he said, "He beat them..." He paused, his eyes filled with an indefinable emotion. "But before he did, they beat him. Esther managed to detach Klaus from his line. None of us will die if he does."

_Impossible. He's Klaus! He's invincible! How did they..._

"He didn't take it too well," Stefan went on. "After he went ballistic on everyone and everything, we ended up at some sordid bar and got inordinately drunk. Damon had returned to Mystic Falls that same day to talk to Elena, so it was just me and Klaus. The more he drank, the quieter he got, which is a bit unusual for him. So I finally asked him why he didn't turn the whole of New Orleans to rubble over the news as he normally would. He stared into his drink for about five minutes, and I started to think he had gone into a stupor when he said something that... well, that probably shouldn't have surprised me but still made me almost fall off my chair."

Caroline gripped the armrests of her own chair, not noticing how they began to crumble under her fingers. "What was it?"

"He said, _One less worry._" Her jaw dropped while Stefan lifted his glass to his lips. "When I asked him what that worry was he merely looked at me and told me not to play dumb."

The armrest cracked; its remains clattered to the floor with a loud clang. Caroline ignored them and the suspicious glances from the other tables as she snatched her glass and downed her drink in one go. "He was drunk," she muttered, pressing her fingers to her temples, "he didn't know what he was saying. And shock. Yeah, he was in shock over what happened."

"Who's playing dumb now?" Stefan demanded, his voice filled with kindness. "Caroline, I know Klaus, and I know him well, but this is unprecedented. I've seen him obsessed and infatuated. I've seen his love for his siblings that he usually hides from everyone including himself. But I've never seen him like this. Eighteen months ago he was about to kill me and Damon for not immediately informing him of your switching it off and disappearing. He was out of the door before we could even finish our drinks."

"He still would have compelled me had I not agreed to his deal," she whispered absently. Her mind was reeling, jumping back and forth without pausing long enough for her to grasp a coherent thought. Klaus accepted the separation from his line so _she_ would live if he died? The thought was outlandish. Scandalous. Incredible.

_Beautiful._

She jolted out of her daze when Stefan cleared his throat. And what he related next turned her mind into an even greater chaos. Klaus had refused to so much as consider Stefan's suggestion of compelling her into turning it back on, berating him for bringing it up in the first place.

"So he was bluffing. He was bluffing all the way." Her soft murmur was meant more for herself than for Stefan. "And I fell for it." All of a sudden, she had to grin. She recalled him alleging that she hadn't wanted to distract him, not really, and perhaps he had been right about that, too. Maybe the last gleam of her humanity, concealed and locked up in the deepest abyss of her being, had wanted to be tricked. To be rescued from lifelessness.

_What took you so long?_

"Yeah, he can be pretty convincing," Stefan agreed. "By the way, he never really told us what went down in Paris, other than you had agreed to turn it back on and that Amaury is now a persona non grata to basically everybody."

"We should order a bottle. This might take a while."

It felt good to tell Stefan everything, although she did leave out some of the more explicit details. There was no need for her friend to know how infinitely right Klaus' every touch had felt, and how she had nearly assaulted him a mere second after being staked. Dinner came and went, the scotch seemed to magically evaporate from the bottle, and Caroline was pleasantly tired after she had finished her story. The younger Salvatore remained silent for a while, playing with his glass. When his gaze returned to her, he pursed his lips.

"What are your plans now?"

Exhaling, she ran a hand through her tresses. They had grown long, nearly reaching her waist, and she hadn't quite made up her mind whether or not to cut them. "I want to return to college, but I'll change my major to Linguistics. I've come across so many different languages by now, it's totally fascinating. I want to learn more about them."

"Am I correct in assuming that you're not going to return to Whitmore?"

Her answer was slow and hesitant. "I was thinking I'd give Tulane a shot." She looked him straight in the eye, hands balled to fists under the table. Stefan's approval had meant the world to her from the very beginning, as would that of any older brother. Nothing would dissuade her from her plans, yet her heart would be all the much lighter for his blessing. So she waited.

"Can I ask you something?" he said after a while. When she assented, he leaned forward, his stare gluing her to the spot. "What happened when you first saw him, back in Paris?"

"I told you. He dragged me off to clean up..."

She didn't get any further. "That's not what I meant. What did you feel at the sight of him?"

"Nothing," Caroline shrugged, "my emotions were turned off, after all. He took me by surprise, so there was a second of discomfort and annoyance, but that was it."

A crooked smile appeared on Stefan's face. "Caroline, when your emotions are turned off, there are no surprises. There is no true annoyance, not at other people, anyway. That second of discomfort, as you describe it, was that like a twinge in your stomach?"

Her eyes grew big and round as she gaped at him. "Yes. How do you know?"

"I turned it off more times than I care to remember." A shadow crossed his features at the reminiscence. "For decades, I felt nothing whatsoever. No fear, no sadness, no happiness, no anger. I had literally died inside, and... well, you know what it's like. But from time to time, I sensed this barely noticeable twist in my gut. I had no idea what to make of it, so other than noting it down in my journals, I ignored it. Then, after the last time I finally turned it back on, I had some time on my hands and went through the entries. I found a pattern." Caroline sat motionless, not daring to breathe or make a sound as she waited for him to continue. "I only ever felt those pinches in the presence of two persons. One was Damon. The other was Elena." He paused again, drawing a deep breath. "The two people I love most in this world."

In a lightning-fast move, she snatched the bottle and emptied its remaining contents into her glass, downing them with her eyes closed. It did nothing to calm her fluttering nerves. "What exactly are you saying, Stefan?"

He looked at her for a long moment before he chuckled. "Climate in Singapore made you a little slow, huh?"

* * *

She had been nervous before. She couldn't count all the times she had been nervous in her life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the way everything inside her jumped and swiveled and swirled as she lifted her hand to touch the battered iron knocker. Her heart was beating in her throat, her fingers trembled against the cold metal, and something in her stomach seemed to have turned into a torrid pitchfork. She let her hand sink and stared at the knocker. It depicted the horned head of a man with a wild, stormy face, carrying the thick iron knocking ring between his teeth. An old depiction of the devil, she reckoned, and most probably something Klaus had chosen. The master of the house playing gatekeeper.

_I can't do this. He's Klaus, for crying out loud! What am I thinking? _

Her subconscious seemed to have the answer, for before she knew it, her hand was on the ring. The sharp knocks echoed through her system like thunderbolts reverberating from a steep mountain face.

Stefan had given her directions to the house that represented something of an interim solution after the Mikaelsons' mansion on the outskirts of the city had been burned down almost two years ago. Busy with Mommy, Daddy and their usual global dominance drama, Klaus and Elijah had not yet found the time to choose a new residence and used their smaller downtown house in the very center of the French Quarter. To her surprise, Damon had offered to accompany her there - be her wingman, as he had put it with his habitual crooked smirk - but she had refused. Stefan had later explained how his brother and Klaus had developed the cautious beginnings of a friendship over these past months they had fought side by side, a friendship fueled by many factors, not the least of which being Damon's and Elena's decision to spend some time apart for the duration of her college education. They both wanted to catch their breaths and start over with a clean slate in a couple of years. Out of the many things Caroline had never quite understood about her friends' tempestuous relationship, this was the most puzzling by far. Elena loved Damon, Damon loved Elena, and still they seemed dead set on this break. Her hopelessly romantic heart didn't want to believe that true love needed a holiday, but perhaps she just had to start growing up. Nevertheless, the pause in his relationship had caused Damon to consider leaving Mystic Falls for a while to avoid running into Elena at every corner, and to Caroline's astonishment, he had had some initial conversations with Klaus about settling in New Orleans - and the Original hadn't been opposed to the idea. All through her raging nerves, she had to grin at the remembrance of Stefan's face when he had told her the news. _"Yeah,"_ he had muttered, rolling his eyes, _"I know. Don't say it. Those two together are the dynamic duo from hell."_ But he had stifled a smile. Stefan's stance towards Klaus had changed considerably over the past couple of years, and while he wasn't yet ready to fully resume their friendship where they had left it off in the twenties, he had confided to Caroline that he saw it on the remote fringes of his horizon. Someday.

_'__Someday' could be here sooner than we think._

Footsteps from inside the house sent her pulse racing and her heart into violent stutters. He was here. Only a few more seconds until the door opened to reveal his face. Until she would see the spark that never failed to light up his eyes when they came to rest on her. Until his voice would send ever new shivers from her head to her toes. Until...

"Miss Forbes. What a perfectly charming surprise."

Caroline struggled not to let her disappointment get the better of her. It was only now that she realized just how badly she longed to see Klaus' beautiful face. She had imagined their reunion a hundred times, the expression on his features when he opened the door to find her there; for some reason, she had never even considered that he might not be the one to answer the stupid door.

"Hi, Elijah. Long time no see."

_Oh God, I sound like a total idiot._

"Indeed. But please, do come in." Notwithstanding his earlier statement he didn't seem the least bit surprised at her unannounced visit, but then there was probably not much that still caught an Original off-guard. As she stepped into the hallway, she took the opportunity to give him an inconspicuous once-over. Apart from his shorter hair, Elijah Mikaelson hadn't changed much. Dressed in an impeccable suit that made one's eyes water, he looked every inch the nobleman he had been for a thousand years. And the brother Klaus trusted - as far as he was capable of trust. The thought made something tighten in her chest.

"I do assume it is Niklaus you came to visit?" When she pressed her lips together and nodded, he pointed at what looked like a spacious living room. "Let us have a seat. Can I interest you in a drink?"

"Is something wrong? Is he...?"

"He is fine. He left for Paris this morning. And before you think of following him there, as your eyes say you will, I would like to speak with you."

A quick flash of apprehension shot through her while they made their way to the room he had pointed out. Was Elijah going to reprimand her for taking Klaus' focus off his parental worries half a year ago? Forbid her from seeing his brother? Much as she liked the oldest Original, his aloofness had always made her a bit uneasy, and it was no different today. He sat down opposite her after handing her a glass; Caroline had no idea what it contained, nor did she care. Her eyes never left Elijah as her jitters mounted with every silent second that passed. After what felt like a week, the Original leaned back into the couch and crossed his legs.

"I won't keep you long, Miss Forbes, you have my word. First and foremost, though, may I ask how you are doing?"

That made her find her voice again. "Do I still want to turn it off, is that your question?"

"Yes." A small smile crossed his features. "Straight to the point. I like that."

Her own smile was cautious when she opted for the truth. "I made my choice half a year ago. I would be lying if I said there weren't moments of temptation, but right now I can't think of any reason that would make me consider turning it back off."

"We all have those instances. That little voice whispering just how much easier it all is when emotions do not stand in the way. The temptation never fully disappears over the course of a vampire's life. Then again, I do have to confess to some difficulty in imagining you without your humanity, Miss Forbes."

"Thank you... I guess?"

Elijah's smile broadened. "It was indeed meant as a compliment. I know what my brother sees in you, and I understand him. Which brings me to my next question - you are aware of the fact that Niklaus has fallen in love with you?"

She felt her face flush vermilion. It was one thing to know that everyone suspected Klaus to have feelings for her, but hearing it from the one person who knew him best in the world, from the levelheaded Elijah, was something else entirely. "Yes," she murmured, fumbling with the glass in her hands, "I know."

"I am glad to hear it. Do you also understand what my brother's love for you implies, Miss Forbes?" Caroline frowned but remained silent, not sure where he was going. "Let me explain, then. Niklaus is a thousand years old. It is only natural that over the course of such a long time, he occasionally took a fancy to a woman. He even fell in love once or twice. What he never did was to allow his infatuations to influence his decisions or distract him from pursuing his quests." Elijah took a swig of his drink. "The women in his past have been passing fancies to Niklaus; some of those fancies were short-lived, others lasted for decades. When it all began, I still believed he would soon find the love he had always proclaimed to want, but circumstances and his own demons prevented him from doing so. After centuries of wars and bloodshed, he gave up on the idea for good. Until you crossed his path."

_If only I could breathe. _

"I admit that I did not take him seriously when he first spoke of you. Not even when Rebekah repeatedly pointed out his obvious interest. It was not before I learned that he had relinquished his desire for revenge against Katerina for your sake that I began to understand something extraordinary was happening."

"He told you about his trip to Mystic Falls?"

Elijah gave her a knowing glance. "Not to worry, Niklaus is not one to share intimate details of his love life." The corners of his mouth twitched. "When he returned to New Orleans, he did so in an ebullient mood that lasted for days. As this has not exactly been a regular occurrence over the past centuries, I asked him why he kept grinning like an imbecile over no apparent reason. He responded by saying that reality far surpasses imagination at times."

_I agree._

"A few weeks later, following a slight scotch overindulgence, he revealed his encounter with you... and what it meant to him. Miss Forbes, I am not normally generous in my usage of superlatives, but do you have any idea how absolute your hold is over my brother?"

His voice held an edge Caroline couldn't quite identify, but one thing she did understand. Whatever Elijah was getting at, he was dead serious about it. "You say that as if it was something bad," she pointed out. Her eyes narrowed. "As if you suspect me to use whatever influence you think I have to hurt him."

"Haven't you done just that in the past, and repeatedly so?"

"Yes. But circumstances were different."

"How?"

The interrogation began to annoy her, Elijah or no Elijah. "I don't see how that's any of your business, and to be honest, I don't see the point to this entire conversation, either."

With a loud clang, the Original set down his glass; his gaze pierced her with an intensity she hadn't believed the levelheaded Elijah Mikaelson capable of. "Then let me enlighten you. My brother loves you. He loves you like I have never known him to love anyone, and when the most powerful creature on the planet develops feelings of such magnitude, there are consequences. To him, to those around him, to the woman he loves. Whether you like it or not, Miss Forbes, you have a responsibility, and the point of this conversation is to ascertain you will live up to said responsibility."

"Excuse me," Caroline retorted, "but whatever does or doesn't happen between me and Klaus is as much his responsibility as it is mine. Ever heard of gender equality?"

_Your brother seems way ahead of you in that respect._

"You misunderstood." The Original rose and made his way to the liquor cabinet, returning with a sturdy crystal carafe. He refilled her glass, then his own, before he sat and brought the tips of his fingers together. "I am not speaking of your role within your relationship with my brother, and I am not insinuating that you are to change one iota of who you are or what you want. You always gave the impression of an honest, kind, and caring woman, which is why I am asking you to reconsider joining Niklaus in Paris - unless it is your express wish to be with him for the sake of his company. Not out of a sense of obligation, not out of curiosity, not out of any ulterior motives. Niklaus' heart has had much to endure over the centuries, and there is nothing he cannot overcome, but you have the power to break him beyond repair. Travel to Paris, Miss Forbes, but do it only if it is out of your genuine desire to see my brother."

Once more, her fingers were unsteady when she lifted her glass to her lips. "If you mistrust me this much, why do you keep pointing out my so-called power over him?"

"I do not mistrust you. All I want is to spare Niklaus unnecessary sorrow."

"So what you're saying is that if something develops between us, I can never leave him again because it would break his heart and he would start World War III as a consequence?" She eyed Elijah, disbelief all over her face. The guy was a gazillion years old, shouldn't he know that this was not how things worked?

His amused chuckle took her by surprise. "No, of course not. Should you decide to leave him at some point, he will probably have himself to thank for it." And the intense stare was back. "I am asking you not to go to Paris if you go for the wrong reasons. Once he sees you there, once he understands that you came to him... As consuming as his hatred and cruelty can be, his love has always been stronger. He suppressed it for longer than anyone cares to remember, and once he allows it to truly reach the surface, the realization that what he is given is not genuine will come with consequences I do not even want to consider. Consequences for him, not the rest of the world. That is what I mean when I speak of your responsibility."

Caroline examined his face for a long moment. Something shifted inside her heart, erasing all annoyance and creating space for recognition. "You love him. Even when you worked with us to put a stop to his schemes, you still loved him, didn't you?"

"With all my heart."

"Then what happens if he loses you?"

"I don't know," Elijah said truthfully. "We had our spats, we spent time apart, we even fought each other. But just as he never truly closed the door on me, I never closed it on him, and I believe his heart was not broken by any of our fallouts because he always knew that."

She rose, drink in hand, and walked to the glass doors that led out to a patio filled with chairs, tables, potted plants, and even a small fountain. It was funny, but she could picture Klaus in this house. It suited him. "I can't give you any guarantees, Elijah. I have no idea what's going to happen and how things will play out. But I can tell you this - I came here to see him. To find out if he can be as large in my life as he is in my head. Can you accept that?"

The proximity of Elijah's voice told her that he, too, had risen from the couch and stood right behind her. "If you give me your word that you will tell him at once should that not be the case, then yes."

"I give you my word."

"Caroline." She turned around at the unfamiliar address. He had only ever called her _Miss Forbes_ before. "I do apologize if I upset you. It was not my intent at all. I am..."

"... just a little overprotective, I get that." She smiled, raising her glass. "Runs in the family, I guess."

"It does."

They drank, and Caroline wondered whether Klaus was at all aware of the eagle eye that watched over him. "What's he doing in Paris in the first place? Hunting down Amaury?"

Elijah grimaced. "That, and establishing order in the city. Mistrusting in the extreme, Amaury never named a deputy who could have taken over after he went to ground. For the past few months, Paris has been besieged by power struggles and the beginnings of full-fledged anarchy. Niklaus will not only need to smother all those attempts at rebellion, he also has to find and enthrone a new leader."

"What made you turn Amaury, Elijah? I mean, you must have seen him for who he was when you first met him."

"I did. But as ever so often with personalities like his, darkness is accompanied by fetching characteristics that may not outweigh, but balance it to an extent. Amaury possessed an innate grace and culture that was quite refreshing in a time of peacocks, would-be artists and insipid court flunkies. Even in his human days, he found himself at the epicenter of countless scandals. Intentionally or not, he was the center of attention wherever he went, a circumstance that, for once, allowed me and my siblings to go about our business with little disturbance. My decision to turn him, though, had nothing to do with any of that." His gaze rested on a bird that had landed on one of the potted plants, chirping away. "I was not in a good place at the time, Caroline. Tired of the continuous battles with my family and bored with life, I sought distraction. Amaury provided it in abundance. I viewed his reckless pursuit of trouble and public outrage, paired with his innocent features, as a permanent source of diversion. I turned him because I was bored out of my senses and wanted to see what would come of converting someone like him into an indestructible being. He surprised me, though - he initially became what I had imagined, yet a few decades later he outgrew his more libertine tendencies and morphed into a rather gifted ruler."

"That makes him no less odious."

"I suppose not." Elijah lifted his glass to her. "Which is why I shall accompany you to Paris. No worries," he added when she drew a breath to speak, "I will not stay. I will not even make my presence known to Niklaus. But I will find my brother more quickly than you could, and although Amaury has gone into hiding, I would prefer not to take risks where you are concerned. Once you are at Niklaus' side, you have all the protection you will ever require."

Her heart warmed at the thought, and whatever protest she had intended to voice was smothered in its crib. "Thanks, Elijah."

The oldest Mikaelson nodded. "He will not start World War III if you leave him," he said with a quiet smile, "but if Amaury puts another finger on you, I do not think the whole of Paris will stand a chance. And I am far too fond of the city to see my brother convert it into a thousand square miles of smoking ruins."

* * *

An audible crack accompanied the last of seven snapped necks. The young vampire's eyes were still open when he vacillated and finally dropped to the ground like a bag of wet cement.

This group of rebellious youngsters was the first and most vocal of those he had to rein in; subduing the biggest agitators served to send an unambiguous sign to the rest of the community and might spare him a few skirmishes. It was not that he shied away from battle, on the contrary, but he had no intention of staying in Paris for months until every last terror cell was under control.

His recent defeat still ate at him. Months of grueling fighting, scheming, and exposure to all varieties of witchcraft had resulted in Esther's and Mikael's incapacitation, yet his triumph had been bitter. He had rendered both of his parents _hors de combat_ and locked them away where no-one but Elijah and himself would ever find them, but not only had he not yet unearthed a means to kill them in such a way that impeded them from ever returning, they had also succeeded in severing him from his line. The news had spread like wildfire throughout the supernatural community, causing an unparalleled stir. Klaus remained as near-invincible as he had always been; the disconnection from his line, however, was certain to spawn a newfound creativity in the perpetual attempts to send him to the happy hunting grounds. Whilst his worry for himself was barely worth mentioning, the defeat had dealt his ego a significant blow, and he certainly did not appreciate the unusual feeling of losing a major point in the ongoing war with his parents. Even less did he appreciate the knowledge that he had no-one but himself to blame.

Events had initially progressed according to plan. He and his siblings had been well-prepared, all pawns in place, the trap set. And then, just as he had Mikael cornered, his stepfather had pulled a rabbit out of the hat. Said rabbit's name had been Caroline. It mattered little that everyone, himself included, had seen the emptiness of Mikael's threats. What had mattered was that his stepfather took no more than one look at Klaus' face to understand the true magnitude of the pressure point Caroline represented. He had thus gone on to unleash the full force of his considerable manipulative tactics - and Klaus had lost his head. For no more than a moment, but the moment had sufficed. Esther's and Davina's joint spell had knocked him off his feet, rooted him to the ground... and nothing Elijah, Rebekah and the Salvatores had attempted could save him from the powerful, ancient spell. Whilst he had swiftly defeated both of his loving parents as soon as the magic dissipated, it had been too late. The damage had been done. Rage and humiliation had nearly got the better of him until, after hours of venting his wrath, something remotely resembling reason returned. What was done was done. Moping was a waste of time; he would handle the situation as he had taken on every challenge over the past thousand years. With determination and cunning.

His gaze shifted from the seven lifeless vampires in the cobbled backyard to the silhouettes of the old Quartier Latin, shadowy against the darkening sky. A ray of red light fought a hopeless battle against the insetting dusk just as the first stars began to sprinkle across the colorful firmament, bringing in their wake a rush of memories of his last sojourn in Paris. That day, too, had been filled with challenges, but unlike tonight, he had loved every minute of it. The remembrance of Caroline in his arms, filling his every sense with her overwhelming presence... She had needed him that day, truly needed him - as he had needed her ever since. What they had experienced together had forged their indisputable bond more strongly than their dalliance in Mystic Falls, and whilst he had been the one to help her return from the land of darkness, she had unwittingly helped him even more. While he had spent the day showing her Paris and explaining about its rich history, she had in fact shown him what he had believed himself incapable of - _normal_. Notwithstanding his ultimate goal of bringing her back, he had utterly enjoyed himself. The sights, the stroll down memory lane, the lighthearted banter, the more meaningful conversation, her scent permeating his system every step of the way - it had been sheer bliss. He had spoken to her of the reconciliation of her two natures, yet he had preached water while drinking wine. Few others embraced their non-human nature like he did, even more so since he had become a Hybrid, and he used his own fears and pain as an excuse to reduce his fight for his human side to a minimum. Unlike Caroline, he could not truly afford his humanity to prevail; nevertheless, the day with her had unveiled that even he could find ways to integrate it in his life - if he chose to. When around her, he wanted it with all his heart. He was not so certain about the rest of his time.

For one brief, sweet-and-spicy moment, he closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to find her. Not a day had gone by that had not seen her uber-present in his mind and soul; tonight, though, he felt her with almost frightening intensity. The tips of his fingers prickled with a sensation he had last felt six months ago, in this very city. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the mellow evening breeze that seemed to carry tiny clouds of her titillating fragrance; the backyard, the alley, the whole city of Paris around him seemed enriched with her sweet scent, growing stronger and stronger, making his heart ache and his mouth water...

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Annoyed at his own apprehension in the face of his haywire imagination, he had barely torn his eyes open when his heart stuttered... and died.

"Hello, Klaus."

Countless years of coming face to face with the unexpected kept his motions calm and his features steady as he turned around.

Caroline hovered on one of the tall pillars framing the entrance to the yard, her mouth quirking in a light smile. The fading pinkish light so typical for the Parisian dusk set her lovely face aglow in a way he had never seen before and that he longed to capture on canvas. Her eyes had turned into gleaming sapphires, and her hair... she had let it grow over the past months, allowing it to cascade all the way down to her waist in soft waves that shimmered like golden halos.

She did not have her light back. She _was_ light.

_By all the Gods, my love. You are the very essence of beauty. _

The thought came like a gust of cold water and made him regain the composure that had faltered a little more with each second he drowned in her loveliness. He wanted her more than ever. Have her by his side each and every day, have her make him laugh, challenge him, annoy him. He wanted to wake up in the mornings to the sight of her radiant, relaxed face after spending his nights making love to her in every way he knew how. In every way she wanted him to.

What froze him inside was the sudden comprehension that he couldn't stand the thought of waiting hundreds of years until she finally recognized that she wanted him just as desperately. He couldn't bear to look at her and not call her his, have her give him a taste of what could be, only to take herself away again and leave him bleeding and aching for her. Watch her fall in and out of love with other men until she elected to come home to him. Once the moment arrived, he would be on his knees in a split second, but another day like the one they had shared six months ago, and he would no longer know how to let her go. Damn, he could not allow her more space inside his heart than she already occupied; he was able to more or less deal with her absence, but he could not bear more of her. _All_ of her, he could handle for the remainder of eternity. Homeopathic doses of her, not so much.

"Caroline. If I remember correctly, my message said it was now safe for you to return to Mystic Falls. I do not recall any mention of Paris, especially with Amaury still at large."

The disappointment he read on her face at his unenthusiastic reception made him want to kick himself. But in addition to his need for self-preservation, seven vampires in various states of unconsciousness lay at his feet. He had cohorts more of them to deal with, he had Amaury to find...

_And I missed you, Caroline. You have no idea how much._

Reining in her disappointment, she hopped down from the pillar and joined him in the yard, studying the scattered, lifeless bodies. "Conducting job interviews or just having a bad day?"

Klaus bit down an unbidden smile. "Vanquishing the workmen's revolution. Which I will need to continue doing in a few more moments, by which time I want you gone."

"Call me crazy, but I kind of imagined a warmer welcome," she deadpanned, her tone a tad strained which made him ball his hands into fists to keep the nuance of hurt from getting to him.

"I am somewhat tied up at present. Chocolate and flowers will have to wait, I'm afraid. What are you doing here?"

She lifted her chin. "The other option was to wait in your parlor in New Orleans for a couple of months. Patience isn't exactly my strong suit, so your brother agreed to accompany me here and... _voilà._"

"_Voilà_ indeed." Out of the corner of his eye, he registered a motion. One of the vampires stirred, giving a disoriented groan as he tried to lift himself to his elbows. Without taking his gaze off Caroline, Klaus rushed to the man's side and unceremoniously re-broke his neck. "Where is that brother of mine?"

"He left about thirty seconds ago. He's headed back to New Orleans."

A word with Elijah was in order, it would seem. Whilst he could not deny his gratitude to his older sibling for delivering her safely, he would have appreciated a heads-up. But that, too, would have to wait.

"Love, I am thrilled to see you, but as you may have noticed, this is not a good time."

"You're not thrilled."

"I am merely busy.""

With a little scoff, she folded her arms over her chest. "Your parents went after you, you had drama after drama going on in New Orleans, and still you dropped everything to come here and find me. And now that you have it all under control, you're too busy to spare me a few minutes? I don't buy it, Klaus." She took a few steps towards him, her intensifying scent weakening his defenses. "You never lied to me before. What's going on? Is it because we were cut off from you?"

She had reached him now, standing right before him and looking up into his eyes with that expression of unpretentious openness she had given him no more than half a dozen times and that told him she truly wanted to understand him. All he had to do was reach out for her, pull her into his arms and let her heal him. Let her heal his longing for her, his wounded pride, his damaged soul, his loneliness. For since she had walked away from him at Charles de Gaulle, he had felt more lonely than ever.

"Caroline, I have work to do here. So unless you wish to help me snap a few more necks, I suggest you return home. Amaury is out there somewhere, and I believe we both know what will happen if he gets hold of you."

"Yes. But right now, I don't really give a damn. Right now, I want you to tell me the truth. I think I deserve it."

"And why is that?"

Her eyes were big and round when she swallowed. "Because you're still in love with me. And as long as you are, you'll always owe me the truth."

He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on suppressing the sweet, strong electric shock. When he reopened them, his face was no longer guarded, just as his voice had an audible crack to it.

"Very well. The truth, then." He reached into his jacket, produced his keys and tossed them to her. "Rue de l'Abreuvoir number three, top floor. Go straight to jail, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, and watch your back. Wait for me there."

Another two vampires stirred. Caroline did not. She studied him for a long moment, passing his keys from one hand to the other. When she finally spoke, a gentle smile graced her features; her voice was low and pearly.

"Yeah. I'm scared, too."

Before he could grope his heart, she was gone.

* * *

_Stop whining, you ninny. Did you really think he'd drop to his knees and shed a tear at the sight of you?_

_Yeah. Kind of._

His whole reaction had been a far cry from what Caroline expected. But so was his place.

The apartment was located on the third floor of a whitewashed, slanted house covered in picturesque layers of ivy and vines. A minute bed and breakfast painted entirely in pink sat to its right, a half-timbered house to its left. All three buildings were hidden away in the very center of Montmartre, and she remembered having walked along this very alley shortly after first arriving in Paris. How different it looked with her emotions back in full swing!

Every step of the ancient staircase inside number three creaked and sighed as soon as her foot touched it. She heard human voices from the bed and breakfast behind the thin outer walls, but no sounds emerged from behind the numerous wooden doors whose petrol blue paint had begun to chip off at least fifty years ago. Her lips twitched when the fragile handrail swayed under her hand, making her wonder whether it would collapse as soon as she looked at it for one second too many.

When she turned the key in the rusty lock and opened the single door on the top floor, her eyes widened with surprise.

She stood in the middle of a living room crammed with stuff from all over the world. African masks adorned the walls in a strange but somehow perfect harmony with a half dozen paintings. They weren't his, that much she recognized, but other than that, she had seen none of them before. Her first guess was that these must be abstract landscapes, only there was no way she could be sure. The works were hypnotic in their own right, albeit not in a happy or peaceful way. On the one wall not covered in masks or artworks, a massive bookshelf held hundreds of tomes of all sizes and colors; what did not fit into the shelf had been piled up on coffee tables, empty vases and the thick rug next to a weathered leather club sofa. A narrow door framed by two iron-wrought lanterns led to something only a very kind soul would call a balcony, and a door to her right, left ajar, allowed a glimpse into a small bedroom. The bed was unmade, its matte grey satin covers rumpled and all over the place. For some reason, the sight of this disarrayed bed sent a series of shivers through her. Images of Klaus invaded her mind, the satin sheet low on his hips, his hair tousled, a sleepy smile on his face. Her heart clenched uncomfortably when she realized that right here, right now, her only wish was to see that. See Klaus cuddled up in his bed, carefree and relaxed. Yet his earlier reaction had made it crystal clear that things weren't going to be quite so easy, and something told her that having their upcoming discussion in this unexpected, intimate little apartment would not make it easier on either of them. Every square inch of the place seemed to transcend his presence, or rather, the presence of a side of him not many knew. The side she had long since fallen for, way before they had become cautious friends. Way before he had rocked her world with that passionate, tender and shattering lovemaking in the woods. And way before he had brought her back from a place she would never have left without his help.

It had taken her almost three years, a painful return from her excursion into the realm of darkness, and an involuntary exile to understand and, above all, accept her feelings. And now that she had, she had come to get what was hers.

She had come to claim the one man who always put her first. And claim him she would. However long it took.

* * *

Half an hour after Caroline had fallen in love with Klaus' secluded apartment, he climbed the stairs to his pad at human speed. His business had been concluded a mere ten minutes after her departure, but he had needed to clear his head before facing her. He had needed to muster up the courage and determination to send her away - even when all of his insides rebelled against the idea. Ever since first meeting her, his inexplicable tendency to put her ahead of everything else had baffled and secretly delighted him, yet this once, he needed to think of himself first.

His heart was beating in his throat like that of a human adolescent on his way to his first ever rendezvous. Only that this was not a lovers' tryst. It was a goodbye.

And still he couldn't wait to feast his eyes on her, drink in her light, her beauty, enjoy her sass... all those little things that made her who she was and that he would come to miss more than ever. After she had left for his Montmartre apartment, it had occurred to him that it was a mistake to meet her at his own, personal haven. Never again would he be able to set foot in there without seeing where she had stood, what she had touched - and if he was very unlucky, her scent would linger within the walls for weeks. Why hadn't he told her to wait for him at a less compromising location? The answer was simple. The irrevocably smitten part of him wanted her to see the one place that was completely his own, his little den of what was left of his human self. It was a nonsensical wish in light of how they would go their separate ways for the foreseeable future.

Klaus exhaled and pushed the door open. And once more, his mind went blank.

Caroline sat on his rickety metal bar stool which she had dragged to the balcony, her back leaning into the door frame, her head resting against the open door. The faint outside light illuminated her face and hair as her silvery voice pearled into the soft, scented air. His apartment had been sound-proofed by a witch decades ago, which was why he hadn't heard her before.

She was singing.

_Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien._

_No, I regret nothing._

He found himself leaning against the door as he listened to the old song by Édith Piaf, to the lyrics he had heard a hundred times. Eyes closed, lips parted, he didn't dare to breathe for fear of missing a tone. His heart skipped a beat when the last few words left her lips.

_Non, rien de rien_

_Non, je ne regrette rien_

_Car ma vie, car mes joies_

_Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi._

_No, nothing of nothing_

_No, I regret nothing_

_Because my life, because my joys_

_Today, they begin with you._

The last note lingered in the air, reverberating like tiny silver bells. Klaus felt the echo of her singing voice in his every cell, wishing she would just carry on until she could think of no more songs to perform, then start all over. He opened his eyes with great reluctance, knowing that she must have heard him come in. She had turned around and was looking at him, her face charmingly flushed.

"Hi."

Stepping into the room, he closed the door behind him. Whatever else was about to happen, this he had to say. "That was lovely, Caroline. Very lovely."

Her smile was a little shy. "I have to work on my accent."

"Yes," he agreed, unable not to return her smile, "you do. Nevertheless, I have heard this song a thousand times. It has... never touched me before today."

"Really?"

"You asked for the truth. It agrees with your voice to perfection. When did you learn the lyrics?"

"They play it basically everywhere. I guess I picked it up and the words just stuck with me." She rose from the stool and came across the room, giving him the first opportunity to appraise her. Clad in black high heels, a black pencil skirt and a burgundy silk blouse with a large ribbon, she looked almost French - but more importantly, she looked every inch the woman he loved and whose mere sight aroused the hell out of him. She moved naturally, as if she had lived in his little sanctum for years. It tugged at him in an unfamiliar way. "It's strange, you know? I would never have expected you to own a place like this. So tiny and cozy. So human. I was figuring something likely to appear in Home &amp; Garden."

"I have another apartment over at Avenue Foch, about ten times the size of this one. Would you prefer to speak there?"

"That's not what I meant, Klaus. I just didn't expect this - and how well it suits you. Do you ever paint here?"

He pointed at a frail spiral staircase in the corner next to the main door. "I have an atelier upstairs on the roof terrace, but I have not been here in a while."

"Show me?"

Good grief, he was tempted. Take her to his studio, show her the works he had not touched in decades, sit on the terrace with a chilled bottle of champagne... make love to her under the stars. He couldn't recall the last time he had wanted something this badly.

_Strength, Niklaus. You'll never do what you need to do if you take her upstairs now._

"Please do not take this personally, love, but I would much prefer to get this over with and have you return to Mystic Falls sooner rather than later."

"Get _what_ over with?" she demanded, her tone considerably cooler.

Klaus gestured at the couch. "Let's sit down, shall we?"

"I'd rather stand, thank you."

"Very well." He focused his gaze on his print of Odd Nerdrum's _Citadellet_ painting for a moment, using the calm sea depiction to steady himself. "Caroline, I am more than glad that you chose to make the right decision as regards your humanity. These past months were difficult for you to handle, and judging by what I see before me now, you did so beautifully. Not that I ever entertained any doubts in that respect. I also have to give you credit for staying away from Europe and the U.S. as I asked you to. Until today, that is." Her lips twitched, albeit only for a second. "So you want the truth?"

"Yes."

"Fine." He snatched a bottle of cognac from the sideboard and held it out her, shrugging when she shook her head. His entire system seemed to ache, hence every means that helped him take the edge off the searing agony was more than welcome. He uncorked the bottle and took a large swig straight from it. The lie he was about to tell made the vintage liquor taste beyond bitter. "The truth, love, is that I am too busy to occupy myself with your drama right now. Why don't you go home, return to college and take up your life where you left it off?" The pain-filled incredulity on her face made him grip the bottle tighter and chug down an even larger helping. "Do not look at me like that. You have a life to live, and with the exception of turning it back off, you are free to choose any life that pleases you. So why do you not do us both a favor and let me carry on with mine?"

Caroline opened her mouth, about to say something - about to shout, as it seemed - when the deeply hurt expression in her eyes faded into a calculating mien. She examined him with probing eyes before she pursed her lips.

"You're lying. Again. Tell me the truth, Klaus."

"I just did."

"Tell me the truth."

Emotions began to bubble up inside him like a string of geysers. "Playing games with me, are you? They won't work, love. I told you I am busy, and that's all there is to it."

Her mirthless chuckle resounded throughout his living room. "Oh, that's all? Coming to save me from myself, not being able to picture me if I'm not okay, setting everything else aside for me, planning on being my last love - all of that is _nothing_? _Tell me the truth, Klaus!"_

"The truth?" he exploded. "The fucking truth? You don't want to hear the truth, you never did! And you could not bear to hear it now, so let it go!"

"What happened to your eternal trust in my strength? What happened to everything you said to me?" Her eyes sparkled with temper, yet her voice was barely audible.

Klaus shook his head in acute despair as all dams broke inside him in a peculiar reflection of her breakdown at the bell tower. "Caroline, has it ever occurred to you that I can't do this anymore? That even the Big Bad Hybrid reaches his limits at some point? Love, your emotions were all over the place when I found you six months ago. _You_ were all over the place. But I was not! That day meant more to me than you could ever dream of understanding. You slept in my arms, you entrusted me with your pain... and throughout all of that, you shed all falsehood. You showed me what I wanted more than anything. Where it took you months to recover from your grief and the loss of your humanity, I have still not recovered from you to this day. And the more I see of you, the more time I spend in the presence of my heart's desire, the more impossible it becomes to let go. Thus I send you away." She looked positively thunderstruck, but he did not offer her a chance to speak. "I will always be there should you have need of me. But unless that is the case, I wish not to see you."

"So that's what you meant by _however long it takes_?" she asked quietly, her voice quivering. "If there was one thing I never thought you were, it was fickle. Looks like I have to adjust my perception."

He closed his eyes. All of a sudden, he found himself beyond pride and pretense. "No, my love, I did not change my mind. I never will. But bloody hell, Caroline, do you think I can just walk away from you every time you decide to show up? That I can just return to business as usual after having you touch me like you do - and I'm not merely speaking of your hands on me?"

"Yes, damn it!" she exclaimed. "You keep telling me how I can always handle everything that is thrown my way, and now you're saying that Klaus Mikaelson of all people can't do what I can do? You're saying that you're so scared of your own feelings that you don't want to see me anymore unless my life is in danger? Well, what happens if _I_ want to see you, like I do now?"

"I have always bowed to your wishes, Caroline, and in hindsight, most of the decisions I made with you in mind were good and right. I still believe there will be a time and place for us, but until that time comes, I choose not to go through dozens of ups and downs."

That earned him a scoff. "Then how are we ever supposed to know whether the time is right?"

He gave her a bittersweet smile. "Very easy. The right time is when you come to me on your own account and..."

"Hello? Have you seen anyone drag me here?"

"I wasn't finished," he retorted, more harshly than intended. With every second he spent in her company, he lost more of his focus, forgot more about all those reasons that made him want to send her away. "The right time will be when you come to me and know what you want beyond the shadow of a doubt."

Caroline tossed him a condescending glance. "And you claim to be a thousand years old? One would think that you know a thing or two about human nature. Klaus, there'll always be doubts. They will only go away with time - and by forgetting about one's fears and just jumping into the pool!"

"I do not have doubts where my feelings for you are concerned," he snapped. "How about that?"

"Oh, really? You're so confident that you want to kick me out and not see me again until I get down on one knee and ask for your hand in marriage!"

"All I want is to avoid these constant emotional typhoons!"

"Well, learn to live with them, because that's how it's going to be! Don't you think I had those, too? From day one?"

A burst of fires coursed through him, but he was too riled up to make sense of what she was truly saying. His voice lashed out like a whip. "From day one? You must still believe me to be the gullible fool who used to fall for your charades."

She took a hesitant step towards him, her face softening. "Klaus, we went past that a long time ago. I understand that you're frightened." Her hand moved, yet she didn't reach for him. "Do you want to know why I came?"

There was a little less heat in his tone when he said, "Can we please not make this more painful than absolutely necessary?"

Caroline bit her lip, her eyes wide and filled with something he couldn't quite identify. "You don't want to know? You want me to leave without asking me what I'm doing here?"

_No, fuck it!_

He had lied many times in his very long life, for countless reasons. No lie that had ever left his lips cost him what this one did. "Yes, Caroline. I want you to leave. I don't want to know why you came. I'm sorry, but this once, I need to think of myself."

They stood before each other, no more than a couple of feet apart, staring into one another's eyes, transfixed. Hypnotized with fear, apprehension, pain. When her eyes began to shimmer, Klaus truly did feel like the villain he had become such a long time ago. But before a tear fell, she straightened and broke the silent duel of gazes.

"Okay. Let me know when you find your guts."

With that, she stalked past him, brushing his arm in the process, and slammed the door shut behind her.

* * *

The silence was all-consuming. Everything had lost its sound. The night, his apartment, her steps, his own thoughts... he heard nothing. He was in a vacuum. For seconds, he remained stock-still, staring into the void. Until he realized what he had done.

He had sent Caroline away.

He had not even listened to her.

He had listened to his fears instead.

He had, for the first time, not put her ahead of everything else.

He was an idiot.

A fucking asshole.

Klaus was out of the door and down the stairs before he even knew he had begun running. Panic flashed through him when he looked left and right, scanning the alley. He would never find her if she had vamped off straight from his doorstep... no, there she was! A few dozen yards further down, he spotted the golden aureole of her hair. She was walking at human pace, head bent, not paying any attention to her surroundings. At full Original speed, Klaus raced ahead, coming to a halt in front of her.

"Caroline, I am sorry."

"Thanks." She walked on past him without giving him a single glance.

"You were right," he muttered, low enough so only she could hear.

"That's good to know." She marched on.

"I'm a coward." She halted mid-step, although she didn't turn around while she waited for him to go on. "Caroline," he said softly, remaining where he was, "I have never shied away from anything. Wars, witch attacks, family battles... none of it ever truly frightened me. My family caused me as much pain as I caused them, it has become second nature to all of us after so many centuries; what my parents do, what Finn does, no longer hurts me. Elijah, Rebekah and Kol still manage to cause me grief, but while unpleasant, I can move on from it, as can they. For a thousand years, I lived with pain and uncertainty I knew how to handle. Then you crossed my path, sending me into unknown degrees of turmoil. It was not the pain of rejection - well, on a side note, you did bruise my ego to an alarming extent. No, what sears me time and again is how you never stopped seeing something in me that no-one but my siblings knew was once there. And how I do not seem to stop discovering ever new facets to you, an adventure I will never tire of. You are yourself with me as I am more of myself with you than I have been in centuries. I want more of that, my love, more of you, and I want it now. Not in fifty years, not in a hundred. I told you I would give you all the time in the world, and I will stand true to my word, but... Gods, Caroline, I know who I am, I know who you are, and you would be a fool to grant me a chance. But I can't stop myself from hoping, and that hope soars whenever I am with you. I also can't stop myself from fearing just how much more indispensable you will become to me - and how that can expose you to risk." His voice lowered to a strangled whisper. "But hell, I don't want you to go."

In a motion so slow it seemed to take forever, she turned around. Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

"One minute you want me, only to push me away in the next. And you complain about roller coaster rides?"

He gave her a cautious smile. "With the remarkable exception of that day in the woods, you never came close to accepting my feelings for you. It was safe for me to pursue you, for the simple reason that I knew how you would respond. Not so today. Today, I quite simply do not know what to expect from you, and that makes me nervous." Exhaling, he crossed the distance, relieved that she did not back away. "Caroline, why have you come?"

She was struggling with the desire to tell him to go jump in the lake, it showed plain on her face. But she was also no longer the bundle of nerves and uproar she had been immediately after her humanity returned, just as she no longer was the charmingly overwrought teenager he had first met. He had always seen her immense potential behind the keyed-up facade, and he harbored not a second of a doubt that those past six months she had spent on her own had made her take one more step towards that potential; he had watched it unfold in bits and pieces during their encounters in Mystic Falls, yet he had always been certain that she needed time to herself, away from her home and friends, to truly begin to discover and develop herself. And the calm, level way in which she uttered her next words gave proof of how she had grown - perhaps more than he ever would.

"I think I understand what you're saying, about how it was safe for you to go after me as long as I kept rejecting you. You know, as long as you kept attacking my friends, as long as we fought you, it was safe for me to play bait - and to tell myself that all this flirting, all this... eye sex, for lack of a better word, was nothing but an act. When the fighting came to an end, when you became some sort of ally, I was suddenly more scared of you than ever before." She paused, taking a deep breath. "There's something I never told you."

With a frown, he tilted his head to one side. "What is it?"

"You remember how Silas used to appear to some as a person they had a deep connection to? As the one truly able to torment us?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "As if I could ever forget. I ended up with a pair of shears in my back because of that bastard."

"Well," she said haltingly, "he appeared to me, too. He appeared to me as... you."

His lips parted in surprise. "What happened? What did he say to you?"

She told him all about how Silas had posed as Klaus, claiming to say goodbye before moving to New Orleans. "He asked me to come with him."

"Not a clever move," Klaus chuckled without genuine joy, trying to process this new piece of information. "He should have anticipated your answer."

"I didn't really give him one."

A flash of heat raced through him, followed by another one. "Are you saying you... would have considered, had the real me seriously asked you that question?"

Shaking her head, she rubbed her hands together, a gesture that told him how nervous she truly was. "Not at the time. But Silas still saw through me. He knew I was afraid of my feelings, and of how hard I fought not to give in to my attraction to you. He didn't fail to tell me so."

His mind and heart were spinning; he wasn't sure whether to thank Silas or find a means to break his immortal bones until none were left. "So why have you come to see me, Caroline?"

She, too, seemed to shake off a daze. Her eyes cleared from the clouds of memories as she returned to the present, and her face was now as naked and vulnerable as he felt. "I came to tell you that I'll return to college in the fall."

"Good." He wrestled down the wave of disappointment. What had he expected? A love declaration? "Do me a favor, though. Tell me of any vampires, witches or werewolves you encounter in Whitmore, and take some of my blood with you as a precaution."

"No need."

"You know how greatly I appreciate that stubborn head of yours, but in this case, there will be no discussion. You will..."

"I'm not returning to Whitmore," she interrupted, and this time, he could almost feel her anxiety in his own system. "I've enrolled at Tulane."

The world stopped and listened. To his thundering pulse, his screaming thoughts, his faltering heartbeat. To this one moment of perfection. "Do you know what you're saying?" he breathed, incapable of raising his voice above a whisper. "Caroline, do you understand what you just said?"

A wide smile split her face, complemented by a sparkle in her eyes. "I do. But you seem a bit slow today." She sobered, poking a finger at his chest. "Just to make one thing clear, Klaus - I'm not moving in with you. I want my own place."

"I object," he said mechanically, as yet unable to grasp what was happening. "Strenuously."

"Good for you," she giggled - and it was that nervous giggle, that most _Caroline_ of sounds that made him understand this was real. That she was serious. In a blur, he had her face cradled in his hands, staring down at her, feeling her pulse thrumming through her veins at the same neckbreaking speed as his own.

"Tell me why," he demanded. "I need to know why."

Her arms sneaked around his waist. She didn't pull him closer, she merely held him in a possessive, confident embrace. "You kick my ass when it needs kicking. You believe in me whenever I don't. You saw who I was before you got to know me. You take me as I am, neuroses and drama included." She returned his gaze with no less intensity. "And even when you don't put me first, you still do. I'm only a couple of decades old, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't get any better than that. Oh, and let's not forget that being the slut you are makes you the single most incredible lay of the decade."

It was all he could do to keep himself from laughing out loud. He had never felt like this - bursting from sheer, undiluted happiness, feeling at once silly and wise, strong and weak, humble and proud. And he was far too full of his heart to voice any of those gargantuan emotions. So he opted for the lighthearted. "I am afraid that you have not enjoyed enough of my _talents_ to forge an educated opinion of them."

To his surprise, she didn't giggle. Instead, she did gather him close and let her hands sneak under the hem of his shirt, making them both close their eyes at the sensation of skin on heated skin. "Then why don't you correct that oversight?"

His eyes remained closed as he bent his head. When his lips touched hers, so soft, warm and eager for his kiss, he realized that he stood on the verge of true beginnings for the first time since his mother had turned him. A chance, not only for them, but for him. A chance to make a life of his messed-up eternity. But then there were no more thoughts. Caroline kissed him with searing passion, yet something about the touch of her lips and tongue had changed. Her kiss was true, pure, filled with every last piece of her soul, bringing his entire system to its knees. This was not the kiss of a woman in lust, although her growing arousal nearly drove him mad. No, this was something else.

It was the kiss of a woman whose heart had found its home.

They stood in the midst of the narrow alley, oblivious to everything but the wonder of each other, lips moving in wild abandon, tongues playing a timeless, loving game. Little by little, the heat between them rose to a fever pitch. Hands moved in frantic need, moans filled the sizzling air in wordless demands for more, for everything. Klaus had hardened to the point of explosion, spurred on by her sinuous movements and her ardent reaction to his every touch, but it was only when she hitched one leg around his hip, making her skirt slide up her thighs that he realized she would let him take her right here on the street - and that he wanted to. Her moaned plea almost made him.

"Touch me. I want your hands on me."

In a supersonic motion, he flashed them into a dark corner next to the door to his house. They were still in public, but passersby would need to look very closely to see what was going on. "Where, Caroline? Where do you want my hands?"

Her eyes fluttered open, and his breath caught at the naked desire in them. He would need to move this inside, but he wanted a little more of her helpless need before she made him lose his mind. "I don't care. Just touch me!"

Before she even noticed, he had undone the top three bottoms of her silk blouse, shoving the fabric off her shoulders and drinking in the sight of her soft, delicate breasts underneath the black lace bra she was wearing. He brought his index finger to her mouth, tracing her lower lip and suppressing a moan of his own when the tip of her tongue slithered around it in a quick, provoking lick. With a mischievous smile, he ran his moistened finger down her neck, her cleavage... until it grazed the line of her bra. "Is this where you want my hands, then?" She could only nod, her eyes locked with his. The tip of his finger slid underneath her bra, tenderly caressing the silken skin. "But we're in public, my love," he whispered with a low chuckle, "do you truly want me to touch you like this in public?"

"Don't... ah," she groaned when his finger playfully grazed her hardened nipple, "don't play cool. You want this as much as I do!"

"I am the furthest thing from cool... and believe me that I want to touch every inch of you more desperately than you could ever know." With that, he slipped the black strap from her shoulder. As soon as her breast was fully exposed, he cupped it with a deep, throaty moan, echoed by hers. His fingers played an intricate game on her skin, kneading and stroking and teasing; he nearly dissolved from pleasure when she shifted to push her breast more firmly into his hand.

"Touch me," she whispered, her voice a hoarse rasp, "touch me, Klaus!"

It was more than he could take. "If you don't stop that, I'll fuck you deaf, dumb and blind right here."

"Touch me," she repeated - right before her hand found his crotch.

They moaned in unison when she began to stroke him, her fingers bold and determined, her breathing as labored as his own as they moved in perfect harmony. Their hands followed the same rhythm, a rhythm that had been made for them alone, and their eyes had already succumbed to the wild, burning love their bodies ached to make.

All of a sudden, when Klaus was almost ready to give in to their crazed desire and fuck the hell out of her against the wall, Caroline's face was caught in a broad ray of moonlight.

She was pearls. She was silver and and splendor and lust, her skin shimmering, her eyes shining, her lips parted in ecstasy.

_My Gods._

"Caroline," he whispered, slowing his motions, caressing her naked breast with no more than the tips of his fingers now, "you have always been unbearably lovely, but right now, your beauty all but breaks me."

Her face lit up with a smile that pierced his heart like an arrow. "Don't let it. It's yours."

"I don't think I heard you correctly."

"I said," she murmured with a long, soft kiss to his neck, "it is yours. As am I."

Klaus stood frozen, his incredulous eyes feasting on the work of art in front of him as his soul feasted on her words. Very slowly, he replaced her bra strap and blouse, took both of her hands in his and touched each of her fingers in soft, lingering kisses, briefly closing his eyes when he felt her tremble.

"Will you allow me to do something I have yearned to do ever since I first laid eyes on you?"

"Apart from killing Tyler, I can't imagine what that could be."

They both chuckled, but the passion did not leave their eyes. "Something strictly between you and me. Do you trust me?"

His heart inflated when she did not hesitate.

"Yes."

* * *

If Caroline thought her nervousness couldn't get any worse, she had been sadly mistaken.

She stood in the center of Klaus' atelier, surrounded by easels, canvases and dozens of paintings in various states of completion, taking in every detail of the room until he returned, a palette and a number of brushes in hand. Placing them on a small working table next to a large, empty canvas, he did a quick inventory of what he needed before coming to her. His eyes softened when he sensed her distress.

"Between you and me, my love. No eyes but mine will ever see this."

With a deep breath, she nodded. Her fingers found the top button of her blouse when he shook his head and gently removed her hands. "Let me." His movements were slow but nimble as he undid button by button, letting the tips of his fingers glide over her skin in the process, sending delicious sparks down her spine. The soft fabric gave a quiet whisper when he slid it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Seconds later, his hands found her back in caresses as tender as the light, open-mouthed kisses he breathed onto each of her shoulders. Caroline's head dropped back, her lips parted. The brief moment of awkwardness at what was going to happen had entirely vanished, even more thoroughly so when she felt her bra disappear - and his mouth on the tip of her breast. She gave a soft moan at the incomparable sensation of his tongue swishing over her nipple... then over the other...

"More," she murmured when his mouth left her.

"All you want," he said with a kiss to her throat, "later."

His hands skimmed down her sides, pausing every now and then to explore more of her skin, until he finally reached the hem of her skirt. He traced a finger along the garment, scorching the skin of her waist, back and belly in the process. Before she knew it, her skirt was gone - and she heard him inhale sharply. With a little smug smile, she took in the fire in his eyes as they followed the outlines of her black garter, lace stockings, and thong.

"Didn't think I'd come here to seduce you and not haul out the big guns, did you?"

"Caroline, if you want to seduce me, all you need to do is show up." She giggled at that, making him give her a smug grin of his own. "Not that I don't appreciate the effort."

"I can't seem to seduce you right now," she complained playfully, "at least I don't see you tear off your clothes and assault me. Not that I'm not complaining," she added. If there was one thing she had always liked about the two of them together, it was that nothing ever seemed out of place. Seduction, banter, deep conversation, arguments - no matter how quickly the mood between them changed, they were on par. Something he proved a second later when he ran a hand down her thigh to the first clip of her garter, bringing her back from teasing to desire in less than the blink of an eye.

"You seduce me with your every look."

_Click._

"With every time you shiver under my touch."

_Click._

"With your every smile."

_Click._

"With the way I make you moan."

_Click._

"With the way the mere sound of your voice arouses me beyond reason."

_Click._

"With your hands, your mouth, your warmth... with how unbelievably wet you are for me."

She hadn't seen him move - but oh, did she _feel _him! He was on his knees before her, and Caroline no longer noticed how he removed her garter and tossed it into a corner. She didn't feel his hands rolling her stockings down her legs and take off her shoes. All she felt were his lips tracing the outline of her thong, his tongue playing with the flimsy material, slipping underneath it every now and then... and without a warning, his hands slid over her ass, to her hips, and pulled up the thong. It stretched against her in a hard, exciting friction, almost distracting her from his wicked mouth. Almost. For when his tongue flicked once against the tight fabric right over her clit, she could do nothing but press her mouth into a thin line and bite down the outcry that threatened to escape.

"Do not hold back, my love. Never hold back." Before she had recuperated from the quick burst of ecstasy, he had rid her of her thong and rose to take a step back, his eyes roaming over every inch of her naked body. Reaching out, he took a thick strand of her long hair and draped it over her breast, running his hand through the tresses and caressing them with featherlight touches. "I love your hair."

"You're going to stop now to paint me? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

For one moment, she felt inclined to protest, but all of a sudden, an idea formed in her head, one that made her suppress a vicious grin at the prominent bulge in his pants. "Okay," she said pleasantly, casting a nonchalant glance around the glass-walled atelier. "Where do you want me?"

"I think it is more than obvious that I want you in the midst of the Yankee Stadium in broad daylight," he teased, flashing his dimples. "But for now, I would like you on that chaise underneath the mirror." Caroline obliged, reclining on the indicated chaise that was fully covered by a white sheet. After some consideration, Klaus positioned her on her back, her knees slightly bent forward and her torso backward so that her upper body faced away from him but was visible in the gold-framed mirror. Producing another white sheet, he draped it artfully low on her hips, revealing no more than a hint of her. One arm rested above her head, the other was hidden behind her back. Finally, he placed a black fan on the chaise before her naked body. Caroline had no idea what it looked like, but it _felt_ erotic, even more so when Klaus pressed a lingering, deep, wet kiss on her exposed neck.

"Do not move."

"Aren't you going to turn on the lights?"

"No. You're far too lovely in the moonlight." Their eyes met in the mirror when he took his place behind the canvas. "Thank you for giving me this."

Her heart melted at the wonder in his voice, and for a little while, she even forgot about her plan, watching him work, hearing the brush on the canvas, delighting in seeing him bite his lips whenever his eyes rested on her. She had never expected this to be such an intimate experience, assuming she would be bored out of her senses just lying there and doing nothing, but she wasn't doing nothing. She was communicating with Klaus every step of the way. His eyes talked in the most vivid of languages, and her body responded. She felt his gaze on her skin like an actual touch, and whenever his brushes whispered over the canvas, it was as if his mouth traveled over her body. To her utter amazement, she sensed how her arousal heightened with every moment she lay at his mercy... which was when she finally recalled her earlier idea.

"That day in the woods," she said in a low voice, keeping her eyes fixed on his face, "what you did to me after that first round..."

His brow shot upwards; his lips twitched. "Yes?"

"Did you know that you made me come twice that time?"

Klaus bit his lip a little more roughly than before, making her stifle a snicker.

_You're a genius, Caroline Forbes. He doesn't stand a chance._

"I do not wish to flatter myself," he muttered, "but yes, I did know."

"But what you probably didn't know is that..." _Oh God, I can't say this, can I?_ "That every time I touched myself since then, I thought of that."

With a subdued clatter, the brush dropped to the floor. Before his eyes returned to hers, Caroline gave her reflection in the mirror a triumphant grin. "You did?" he demanded, staring at the canvas and avoiding her eyes in an attempt to retain his focus. Her tone lowered to barely more than a whisper, partly because she was a little embarrassed at having to put things into words, and partly because the memories were as vivid today as they had been two years ago.

"I thought of you... how you made me almost pass out with no more than your tongue... and I whenever I came, I came with your name on my lips." He exhaled, gripping the brush more firmly. "There were days when I was sitting in class at Whitmore, and all of a sudden, I felt you on me... _in_ me... I saw visions of you taking me on my desk... in my bed... in the hall..."

A low moan escaped him. As he put the brush and palette aside, his piercing stare found her. "I know what you are doing, my love."

"Is it working?"

For a brief instant, the teasing spark was back in his eyes. "I am not sure. After all, this is going to become my masterpiece, and I need to set my priorities."

Caroline threw off the sheet and sat up, her feet dangling from the high chaise. "Then how about this to help you decide?" She swallowed. "I want you, Klaus. All of you. And I want you now."

She had no idea how he had managed to shed his clothes before reaching her, but he was as stark naked as she when he sank to his knees once more and pulled her forward until she sat precariously on the edge. The vicious little _Klaus_ smile played around his lips when he straightened and cupped her breasts. The first swish of his tongue was strong and hard, followed by a tender, open-mouthed kiss. "Well, then, my love - this first time now, I will make you come fast and hard. And the time after that, you will beg me for release. And after that, I might, I just _might,_ take mercy on you..." He gripped her neck and pulled her head towards him, his lips brushing her earlobe. "... and fuck you. So slowly that you will try to force me to take you harder and deeper. And who knows... maybe I'll let you. Sound like a deal?"

Before she could even think of a response, he parted her legs. "Lean back, but don't lie down." Caroline obeyed, supporting herself on her hands while never taking her eyes off him. "Spread them further. Yes, like that. Good Gods, my love, you're..." Without a warning, his tongue circled her clit. Once, twice, half a dozen times. He seemed to revel in her outcries almost as much as she did in the reckless play of his masterful tongue. Her arms were shaking badly, as were her thighs, and the pleasure spreading from her throbbing clit all throughout her body was almost excruciating.

"Yes!"

She hadn't heard herself groan the word when his tongue slid into her. Klaus' moans against her burning flesh were no less primal, melting with the sounds that seemed to come straight from the bottom of her soul. His mouth was all over her, devouring her, making love to her, fucking her. Caroline wanted to sob with sheer painful ecstasy, wishing she could spread her legs further, wanting him to go on for centuries and at the same time desperate for her release. Which was the precise moment his tongue finally found her clit.

"My _God_!"

She climaxed with a force that frightened her a little - but it was all forgotten when Klaus retreated from her and with the speed of sound, pressed her legs together, not allowing her to move. Caroline tore her eyes open, confused for a split second... and then she felt it. Her orgasm mounted with every moment it lasted, enforced by her tightly closed legs and her inability to move. In acute need, she slung her arms around Klaus' neck, holding on for dear life as her climax washed over her, leaving her breathless, disoriented, and exhausted.

"You're evil," she panted when she was sure she could breathe again. "Pure evil."

"Oh, you truly have no idea," he chuckled. Caroline found no time to reciprocate as she felt herself lifted from the chaise, only to find him underneath her... his head between her legs.

"I can't... ah... give me a minute... I... Klaus, please... oh, damn... stop! I said... Just. Don't. Stop!"

He took his time. His licks were languid, long, deep, avoiding her hypersensitive clit but taking thorough care of her. His hands moved over her thighs, her ass... and his little sounds of pleasure nearly drove her out of her head. It was absolute heaven. With something between a moan and a sob, she gave herself over to him, half-expecting her next climax to assault her, but Klaus was having none of that. Whenever she began to build up to it, he found a different way of pleasuring her, bringing her back from the edge and at the same time, never allowing her burning arousal to lessen.

_The time after that, you will beg me for release._

His words echoed through some distant region of her mind. He wanted to play? Very well. Play she would. When another shudder shook her, she began to let her hands glide over his strong, wiry body, sending them south without ever losing contact with his heated skin. It was soft and lovely, and... _ah... this cursed tongue... focus, Caroline..._ and then her hand tenderly ran along the length of his cock. She vaguely remembered being taken aback by its unexpected size when she had first laid eyes on it, but the moment had been short-lived. Right now, all she felt was the nagging desire to give what she was taking. Bending down, she suppressed another tremor and let her tongue circle the head of his glorious, rock-hard length. And was richly rewarded.

Klaus gave a deep, feral groan. The play of his tongue roughened in harmony with her own attack, just as his grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her hips. Her tongue swiveled and flicked over every inch of him, savoring, tasting... loving. Klaus' hips twitched under her while he never ceased his sweet torture, sending her into ever new rounds of bliss and fire - until she slid him deep into her mouth.

He cried out against her soaked flesh, wrapping his arms around her waist and bringing her further down on his mouth - making her whimper in return.

They were all kisses and licks and shivers and moans, setting each other aflame and allowing one another to be at their most exposed and vulnerable. For the first time in her life, Caroline held nothing back. She gave, she took, she let him hear and see everything she felt... and she sensed it brought him to the brink of madness.

"Please," she begged when she could stand the fire no longer, "please, Klaus!"

His responding moan was long and throaty, vibrating against her as he went in for the kill. The swishes and licks grew more determined at the same time as Caroline took him in deeper, bringing her hand into play and mercilessly ignoring his half-crazed pleas to stop. His cock twitched, his thighs quivered, her arms could barely hold her upright... and they came together, hard and without an end in sight. Klaus pressed her against him while his tongue danced all over her, prolonging her orgasm in any way he could until they both had nothing left to give.

Lifting her limp, exhausted body as if she weighed no more than a feather, he switched positions and settled her next to him, her head on his chest, his arms safely around her. For a few minutes, no sounds were to be heard other than their labored breathing and accelerated heartbeats. Caroline snuggled against him, heaving a contented sigh when he gathered her closer and kissed the top of her head.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you are quite the cunning lady?" she heard him mutter while he wrapped one of her curls around his finger.

Caroline giggled. "Get over it, Big Bad. You're the godfather of cunning."

"You do not see me using cheap tricks to lure you into bed," he countered with a chuckle of his own.

"That's because I'm too smart to be seduced by you." The memory made her smile.

"No. It is because you are the seductress in this scenario. I am merely the poor devil too smitten to resist."

"Like you have never seduced anyone," she grinned and lifted herself onto her elbows. Her pulse staggered at the sheer, untainted happiness on his face. "For example - when was the last time you brought a woman here under the pretext of painting her and then ended up on this very sofa?"

"No-one has ever set foot in this apartment. Not even my brother."

A sweet little ache gripped her. "How come?"

Klaus gave a shrug and pulled her in for a long, soft kiss. "Because this place is mine, and mine alone. I do not wish to share it, I do not wish anyone to know of it."

"Then what am I? Chopped liver?"

He shifted to his side so he was facing her. His knuckles brushed over her cheek. "You, Caroline, are the woman I love. And whatever else I may be, I am not a man to keep secrets from that woman. You told me once that the first stage of friendship is trust. I would be lying if said I trusted you from the beginning. I did not. It took me long to get there. But I trust you now."

With a smile, she took his hand and brought it to her lips. "Why?"

"When you allow someone in, you are unwaveringly loyal. I would trust you with my life."

"Easy for you to say," she teased, leaning in for another kiss.

As she released his lips, he gazed at her for a long moment while entwining their fingers. "Very well. There are two white oak stakes left. One is in my possession, the other is being handed back and forth between a group of vampires allied with my stepfather. It is constantly being moved around, which is why I have not managed to get hold of it quite yet. My own stake is locked away in a subterranean strongroom underneath my former mansion that was put to the torch a couple of years ago. The combination for the strongroom is 24-81-62-77-19. Mikael and Esther have been incapacitated and, together with a powerful young witch named Davina, incarcerated in the bowels of a defunct mine near Yellowknife, northern Canada." He looked her straight in the eye, his gaze steady. "Now you know every possible way to endanger my life."

She stared at him in disbelief. A slow, glowing warmth spread inside her when the ultimate recognition hit home. This twisted man loved her above everyone and everything else. He knew her. He would always be there for her - and he _did _trust her with his life. "I never would."

"I know."

"I'll still get my own place."

"I most definitely do not think so," he countered, pulling her close and making her suck in a breath when she felt his erection against her. "Caroline, you're very mistaken if you think I'll let you leave my bed after making love to you. I want you to fall asleep in my arms. I want to wake you in the middle of the night and bury myself in you. I want you to wake me and make love to me." He paused. "And I want your face to be the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning."

"I didn't know you were such a romantic," she said with a tender smile and no ounce of teasing. "Klaus, it's not like I want this to be a permanent situation. I just need some time, and I need to know I have a place to retreat to if I want space. I'll probably end up sleeping in your bed anyway, or you in mine, but this is important to me. How about this - I'll cut you a deal. We give it six months, and you won't make a fuss whenever I want to be at my place. After that time, I'll move in with you permanently. Unless you screw things up, of course," she added with a wink.

"Another Parisian deal," he murmured, his face buried in her hair. "Fine. I agree. On one condition."

"Name it."

"When it comes to your safety, you will never fight me."

"Done."

Before she even realized he was moving, Klaus had her pinned underneath him. "That leaves only one question." When his lips covered hers, Caroline tried to remember why she was insisting on her own place when it was more than clear that she wanted nothing more than to have him every single night. Morning. Noon. Afternoon. Evening. Always. His lips felt perfect on hers, so strong and velvety at the same time, rousing needs she never thought she had in her. Need for him, for his passion. His love.

"What is the question?" she panted when his lips moved from her swollen mouth to her neck.

"Hm? Oh, right." He rose to gaze down at her, his beautiful face slightly flushed with pleasure, a sight she began to cherish more than any other. "Your semester starts in August. Did you have any pressing engagements before then?"

"Nope. Why?"

"I thought you might want to join me in my search for Amaury."

Caroline ran both of her hands through his thick, tousled curls, marveling at watching him close his eyes at her touch. "Just so you can save money for my bodyguards?" she joked before bringing her face to his and kissing him with all the heat she felt slowly rise inside her again. Klaus was a little out of breath when they broke the passionate kiss.

"My idea was more about you kicking his sorry ass straight to hell." He chuckled. "Unless you want me to do the dirty work."

"Wasn't it you who said I can never beat this guy?"

"I will teach you how. It will help you understand more of your other nature, and you will not do it alone."

She considered for a moment. "On one condition."

His lips twitched. "Name it."

"Neither of us will stoop to his level. It'll be quick and painless. No revenge drama."

"Done." He traced a series of soft kisses all over her temples, her brows, her eyes, making them both sigh with delight. "Caroline."

"Yes?"

Klaus swallowed as he took her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I love you."

In one fluid, powerful motion, she reversed their positions and straddled him. Never taking her eyes off his, she let her face turn and her fangs descend, bringing a finger to her lips when he began to speak. He fell silent, his gaze only a little apprehensive. It wasn't mistrust, she realized with relief following a quick pang of disappointment. It was his innate discomfort with any situation he could not predict or calculate. She bit her wrist, deep and hard, and before he could react, she let a drop of her blood trickle onto his lips. Then another. And another. Her own mouth opened at the unexpectedly erotic sight of Klaus licking her blood off his lips, giving subdued sighs whenever a droplet touched his tongue. She wasn't quite sure whether she should be embarrassed about her ardent desire for his fangs to plunge into her neck, but as it was not an option, she contented herself with enjoying his tiny motions underneath her and his undeniable delectation at what he was being given. She was just about to bite her wrist anew when Klaus shook his head. A split second later, she found herself on her back. He had gently taken hold of her wrist and held it out to her.

"Again."

Puzzled, Caroline bit her wrist. He guided it away from her lips and right over her neck. No sooner had the first drop of blood fallen onto her delicate skin than his mouth found it there. His tongue spread the tiny puddle, following its trace back to where it had first touched her neck, licking up every last bit. It was not long before he had entirely succumbed to the lure of her blood - as Caroline had to the magic of his lips and tongue on her. Over and over did she bite her wrist and let more blood trickle onto herself, feeling her mounting lust hot and wet between her legs as Klaus moaned into her neck, demanding ever more and drinking with a greed that was as inescapable as it was exciting. Hot. Arousing.

_Your darkest desires... deep down, you long to have your perfect feathers ruffled._

Silas' _very _accurate words had not quite faded inside her head when she lifted her wrist to bite it once more - and found her fangs buried in Klaus' neck.

Once more, he had been too fast for her to realize her was moving. In acute shock, she wanted to pull back, only to have her head gently nudged back down. "Don't think," his dark, mesmerizing voice sounded close to her ear. "Don't think, Caroline."

It wasn't different from what she had done in Belleville Parc - and yet it was something else entirely. This time, she didn't crave his blood for blood's sake, she craved it as a part of him, a natural element of this most erotic of nights... a part of their bond. Summoning all her strength, Caroline trapped his magnificent, naked body against hers; her fangs, lips and tongue conquered him like a devastating storm while his rich, opulent blood flooded her mouth. She lost herself in Klaus, in his taste, in the way their bodies followed each other's moves. Somewhere on the fringes of her consciousness, she felt his hands on her thighs, parting them with irresistible determination... and then she had to let go of his neck, rearing up with a desperate, feral moan as he slipped two fingers inside her, finding a slow, measured rhythm that brought her to convulse under his expert hands.

"How can you want me this much?" he whispered, his voice choked with wonder and lust. "How?"

"Because you... _ah_... because... Klaus, _please_, just... can't... wait any longer!"

In less than a heartbeat, his fingers were gone. Caroline writhed on the bed, unable to keep still at the sweet ecstasy that ran through her whole body - and in breathless anticipation of finally, _finally_, feeling him inside her again.

"Look at me."

She tore her eyes open with some effort. Klaus knelt before her, thick and hard and beyond ready. He grasped her hips and pulled her half onto his lap, brushing the tip of his beautiful cock over the length of her, caressing her clit. Caroline shuddered, biting down a loud mewl. Her eyes begged him as his begged hers... and then he slid into her.

They stared at each other as he sheathed himself fully, unable to breathe or speak.

_Oh God. I'm going to die. This is... he is... _

"I need you to move," she whispered, "or I'll go crazy. Make love to me."

"Always." Something remotely resembling pain crossed his features, but it was gone before she could be sure. He withdrew almost completely, only to glide back into her even more slowly. Every time he was buried in her, he remained still and closed his eyes for no more than a second; his tender, intense rhythm never wavered, not when Caroline's arms no longer supported her weight through the bone-deep shivers, not when goose bumps covered every inch of her skin as she was loved like she had never been in her life. Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined sex could be this intense, reaching so far beyond mere pleasure and gratification. Back in the woods, he had been her perfect lover - tonight, he was becoming her other half. Regardless of what the future brought, she would never be alone again. Not after this.

Klaus filled her with each gentle thrust, reaching depths she had not known existed. There was no hurry in their all-consuming mating, no frenzy, although his hips began to roll against hers with slightly more force. When he sunk into her the next time, he bent down and circled her nipple with his tongue before biting it with his blunt teeth. Caroline's back arched from the chaise, only to be caught in his arms. He dropped against the backrest with her on his lap, brushing back her long curls as his eyes sought hers. A fierce hunger shone in them.

"I have always craved control, Caroline. With you, I long to lose it. Make me."

She found no words as her hips began to dance a slow waltz on his lap. Turning and swaying, she felt him graze her walls, his rigid cock sliding in and out of her soaked depths while she rose and sank back onto him, her hands lost in his disheveled, dark golden curls. Klaus' eyes devoured every new rush of passion on her face; his lust-filled moans grew heavier and more wanton with each little twist of her hips. He was kneading her ass, hard and determined, his fingers digging into her flesh and sending endless bouts of desire through her... desire for his irresistible power - and his complete surrender. Her hands flew to the backrest of the chaise, blindly seeking support; for one split second, she stopped moving and stared into his stormy eyes. And then she began to truly ride him.

There was no more delicacy in her motions, nor in his response. Flesh smacked against damp flesh, hips moved in perfect, wild rhythm, hands were no longer gentle. Klaus' mouth crushed hers, kissing the hell out of her as she fucked the hell out of him. He attacked her breasts with his skilled fingers, teasing and stroking and pleasuring her on the fine line between boundless lust and exquisite pain, all the while she took him with the abandon of a lunatic. She no longer cared if anyone heard or saw. She no longer even tried to suppress the primeval, almost animal sounds she heard herself make whenever she slammed down onto him. It was hard and rough and fast and oh-so-deep. It was not from this world.

And just as she thought she could take it no longer, when her orgasm was a mere thrust away, Klaus gave a dark, guttural moan.

Caroline had no idea how she suddenly found herself pressed against the atelier's cool glass wall, his hands next to her head, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist - and Klaus still deep inside her. Out of the corner of her eye, she registered a motion in a lit window across the interior courtyard.

"Watching," she managed to pant, "people watching."

The wicked gleam returned into his eyes. "Bother you?"

A rush of reckless thrill tingled all over her spine. "Shut up and..." she brought his face to hers and ran her tongue over his lower lip, "fuck me."

She didn't have to ask twice. As if the ephemeral interruption had never happened, they took each other... and now it was his turn. Every thrust was wilder than the previous, making her mewl and cry and scream and beg for release as he continued to slam into her with his magnificent cock and his hard, lean body. Caroline sensed all strength leave her and at the same time, she had never felt more powerful. Klaus was hurling her straight into sweet oblivion, but the power was hers as much as it was his. And she wanted to lose that power now. With him.

"Klaus," she whispered. All thoughts vanished. The world became a giant ball of fire and lightning and thunder. "_Klaus_."

The explosion inside her incinerated everything.

Had she screamed his name? Caroline no longer knew. Or cared. All she cared about was how he followed her into the mayhem of ecstasy - crying out her name to all the stars in the universe.

She was his as thoroughly as he was hers.

And by all that was unholy - that slutty man of hers wasn't the lay of the decade. He was the lay of the millennium.

* * *

The late afternoon sky was overcast, heavy with thick grey clouds.

Caroline awoke to a feeling of rapture, euphoria and placidity she hadn't experienced in a long time.

_Try 'never'._

And one lingering look to her left brought back the memories... and caused her pulse to stutter.

Klaus was wrapped up in the sheets as if defending them against impeding theft - leaving her entirely uncovered, which brought a silly giggle to her lips. He had tossed the pillow off the bed and slept with his head right on the mattress, one arm stretched out, hand dangling over the edge. His other hand rested on her waist. Like she had imagined, his hair was all tousled... and his face... not once since she had first met him had it borne this expression. No hint of tension tainted it, giving his features a peace she assumed he wasn't even aware he had in him. The corners of his mouth were curled upward only the slightest bit, showing beginning dimples.

"Beautiful," she whispered to herself while she reached out to trace a strand of his hair with her finger, careful not to wake him, simply enjoying the lasting, happy ache in her heart.

She had no words for the night that lay behind her. After their venture into exhibitionism, Klaus had scooped her up into his arms and rushed her downstairs, right into his bed where he had gathered her close, kissing and stroking her from head to toe until she was so desperately turned on that she wordlessly jumped his bones. They had made love all night, hour after hour, without tiring or pausing - unless it was to exchange long, deep kisses, talk in quiet whispers... or laugh with each other. Klaus' happiness had ostensibly grown with every minute, and he had made no attempt to hide it from her. But he had also waited for something - something she knew he wanted, _needed_ to hear.

Something she felt in every part of her soul but could not yet say.

Very gently, she took his hand and replaced it on the mattress. He stirred for a moment, then sighed, but he did not wake. Caroline rose from the bed; her eyes fell on one of his shirts, carelessly tossed over a chair. She considered putting it on before she shrugged. Nothing the neighbors hadn't seen, right? And for some reason it felt... natural, _right_, to be naked around Klaus. As she was, she traipsed out of the bedroom and up the spiral staircase, flinching with every creak of the ancient steps. It was her hope that he wouldn't wake up just yet so she might have a few moments to herself, to try and wrap her head around her feelings.

The atelier seemed flooded with light in spite of the sunless skies. Caroline felt a faint blush warm her cheeks when her gaze fell on the chaise that had witnessed their wild encounter - or parts thereof - and she stopped in front of it, before the large, slightly tilted mirror. As she looked at her reflection, she tried to see herself with his eyes. Yet whilst no longer the insecure, unsteady teenager of earlier years, she could still not entirely fathom how she, Caroline Forbes of small-town Mystic Falls, Virginia, had become the one woman to conquer a thousand-year-old Original vampire who had seen everything and entertained countless affairs over the centuries. Their beginnings had seen her treat him with derision, ridicule his attraction to her and try to belittle it, brushing it off as a fleeting obsession. But if she was honest, the question as to what he saw in her had plagued her even then. His interest had flattered her - not that she would ever have admitted it to her friends - and to her dismay, she had found herself responding to him from day one. With a little grimace at herself, she remembered the day humanity-less Elena had called her out on what she had believed her best-kept secret; the mortification had nearly choked Caroline.

_You're beautiful, you're strong, you're full of light._

Even if she lived to be a million years, she would never forget those words she had initially dismissed as nothing but a pick-up line. No-one had ever uttered something so lovely to her before that day. More often than not, she had whispered the words when she was alone, trying to make herself believe them. She hadn't entirely succeeded to this day, although she had long since understood that he had meant every letter. He really saw her as this exquisite creature, and despite liking her reflection after this sublime night of lovemaking, Caroline also knew she would never be able to fully share his point of view.

A small sigh escaped her as she turned her back on the mirror and let her gaze wander all over the messy studio, in passing admiring his finished and half-finished works. The canvas on the easel in front of the chaise caught her eye. The painting he had begun to craft of her last night before she had _distracted_ him. Her curiosity piqued, she tiptoed across the room, briefly gripped by a bout of guilt. Didn't artists hate for anyone to look at their unfinished works? Then she grinned.

"Should have covered it, then," she breathed as she walked around the easel to peek at the work. Only to feel her jaw drop to the paint-spotted floor.

_That's not me. That can't be me!_

Caroline rubbed her eyes and shook her head like a puppy leaving the water, certain that the illusion had disappeared and been replaced with staunch reality. The first thing she registered was that the painting was actually finished; Klaus must have continued to work on it while she had been sound asleep. Her second discovery was that it did indeed depict her... or rather, an extraordinary, otherworldly version of her. The ridiculous comparison to a grey dove photoshopped into a vibrant, shimmering bird of paradise came to mind. Every shade he had used was a variation of gold, silver, yellow, and white, and yet the painting seemed to comprise all colors of the spectrum. Her hair, falling over her back in gentle curls, glimmered in a nuance of gold so intense that she had to step closer to the canvas to make sure he hadn't used actual gold foil. Her skin was of an iridescent alabaster tone, resplendent in the silvery moonlight illuminating her. The swell of her breasts looked enticing even to her, just as the way he had captured her reclined, barely covered pose had something so sinfully erotic she felt herself flush once again. Her gaze fell on the depiction of her face in the shiny mirror. It seemed to cast its own light onto the reflective glass, like another ray of moonlight coming from a different angle. Through the mirror, her image was staring at the invisible artist with an expression somewhere between soft, warm tenderness and the blazing fires of lust.

Everything about the painting was light, warmth, sensuality... love. What her lips had not been able to speak as yet, her eyes were more than loudly conveying through this mirror. What was more, his love for her shimmered in each and every brushstroke of his incredible, ethereal creation. Caroline felt tears pool in her eyes but didn't wipe them off, allowing them to fall freely instead.

"Mom," she breathed very quietly, "talking to you buck naked while looking at a nude painting of myself seems like an idea that'll result in years of expensive therapy, but I have to, okay?" Suppressing a chuckle at her own silliness, she inhaled deeply. "I want to believe that you're up there watching over me; if you are, I hope you've been averting your eyes last night. Anyway, Mom, I wanted to say something to you. Being without you still hurts. Every day. And I think it'll hurt for many more years. But I need to come back to what you said about my life waiting for me, and that I should go and find it. I... I think I have, Mom. Or at least, I've found its beginnings. And here, today, I promise to try and make you proud of the paths I'll be taking. I might not always succeed, but I'll never stop trying and fighting." She lowered her voice further, closing her eyes. "I know he's everything you despise in a vampire. But then so have I been for more than a year, and even, at times, before that. So has Stefan. Elena. Damon. Alaric. Tyler. One of the good things about eternity is that you can tumble, fall, and get back up on your feet to try again. None of us is a saint, but none of us is a devil, either. Klaus isn't the devil, Mom. He never was, I saw that a long time ago - okay, granted, he can be a major jerk at times, but he's not an essentially evil man. Much rather, he's the man who knows me best of all. The _real_ me. He's the man who loves that real me unconditionally and who for some reason understands me better than anyone ever has."

When she opened her eyes again, a tiny stream of sunlight broke through the clouds, falling on the array of well-used brushes on the working table. It was gone as quickly as it had come, but it gave her a sudden, inexplicable courage.

"I'm in love with him, Mom. So much. And I have no idea why I'm too scared to tell him."

"Too late."

Her face flushed hot, then cold, then hot again as she whirled around to find him standing at the landing of the stairwell with an almost unbearably overjoyed smile. He, too, was naked, distractingly so, but for the moment, Caroline's embarrassment superseded any dirty thoughts.

"How long have you been standing there?" she demanded, a tad sharper than necessary, but her tone didn't seem to bother him at all.

"For about three seconds." His euphoric smile didn't waver, making her think how she had never seen anyone look so completely and utterly happy.

"Didn't your mother teach you that it's impolite to listen in on other people's soul-baring monologues?"

"My mother taught me many things. None of them beneficial. Right now, though, I could not be more grateful to her for failing to teach me manners."

Caroline shook her head, but it was impossible to be mad at a face so exuberant. And a smile so enticing. "You finished the painting," was all she could think of.

"I seem to have experienced a rather powerful rush of inspiration." He paused, his eyes shifting from her to the canvas and back. "Do you like it?"

"It's incredible, but... Klaus, you know me well, and this is not who I am. This pure, otherworldly woman you painted isn't me. I'm not pure, I'm not untainted."

He came towards her, his eyes on the painting. "No, of course not, and I am glad of it. Have another look, my love. Step closer."

Her brows creased, Caroline approached the canvas and examined it more thoroughly, fighting not to let his proximity and his intoxicating scent numb her senses. At first she didn't understand what he was talking about. There she was, ethereal, beautiful, glowing. There was the mirror, her face, and...

_Hang on! How have I not seen this before?_

An inch removed from the reflection of her face, the ghost of another face was hidden. It was so well-crafted that one could walk by the painting a hundred times without noticing. The exact duplicate of her features was a hazy silver shadow within the mirror, pale, white... deadly. Minute black lines crisscrossed the skin under ice-cold eyes, and Caroline thought she was seeing the hint of a fang. It was a masterpiece. And so accurate it hurt for a second.

"I see you as you are, Caroline. And this is you. All of this is you." Without further ado, he took her in his arms and brushed his lips over hers. "Why were you too frightened to tell me?"

She slung her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. "You heard me. I have no idea."

"Then let this have been the last time you were." Klaus lifted her up and flashed them both back downstairs and into his bed, lowering her onto the mattress. Hovering over her, he bent down and kissed her eyes with a tenderness so intense it made her snuggle into him in a quiet demand for more. "Don't let these past few hours fool you into seeing something in me that I'm not," he murmured against her skin. "I believed to be incandescently happy last night. I was wrong. Nothing has ever made me happier than hearing you utter those little words a few minutes ago. But I also wish you had not said them. Not today."

Tearing her eyes open, Caroline went very still. After a moment in complete shock, she saw his anxiety. His fear. And she understood. "You can be remarkably obtuse for a wise, old man."

"I resent the old man."

"Toughen up." They chuckled, and this time it was Caroline who took his face in her hands and gently kissed his eyes. "Do you seriously think I didn't know what I was saying? That last night was so out of this world that I no longer know what's what?"

"I should hope so," he teased, then sobered. "But yes, something like that."

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but while the sex was... I'm not sure the proper word has been invented for how unbelievable it was... it didn't suddenly make me think of you as Saint Niklaus. Should it have escaped your attention, I've known who you are for years - the good and the bad. What I said, I said coherently and in full knowledge."

Klaus let his forehead sink against hers in a gesture of complete surrender. She encircled him securely with her arms, holding him as close as she could, and listened to his thundering heartbeat. For a long while, neither of them spoke. It was as if they both wanted to savor this moment, this first step into a whole new stage of their stormy relationship. Caroline didn't fool herself - putting her love for him into words had been the last true little barrier between them. There was no backing down now. She recalled Elijah's demand that she go to Paris only out of the right reasons; it had entailed endless hours of deliberation during the flight, listing pros and cons in her mind. But she had always come back to her starting point - Klaus felt _right_. In almost every sense of the word. Right for her. As she was right for him. And something else became clear to her in this harmonious, deeply intimate moment they were sharing. She hadn't been scared of telling him, not truly. Her love would never be safer with anyone, as she herself would never be safer than at his side, and had she actually been frightened of revealing her feelings, she wouldn't have spoken them out loud within reach of his Original hearing. All this had been no more than the last remnants of years of hiding her heart from him and everyone else.

She was Caroline Forbes. She didn't have to hide. Not anymore.

"I love you, Klaus. In spite of what you've done, and for so many reasons I can't list them all right now. And if you can't deal with that, you'll have to learn to," she added, smiling against his cheek.

His breathing stuttered when he rose onto his elbows, framing her face with his hands and touching the tips of his fingers to her temples. "I cannot think of anything to say that would not sound embarrassingly needy and romantic, so I'll limit myself to this: I cannot guarantee I will always be able to live up to your expectations, Caroline. But what I can promise you is that nothing, _nothing_ on this Earth will ever be more important to me than you are. Nothing. And on this I swear, right here and right now. Always and forever."

The lump in her throat seemed to grow into the size of a pomegranate. "Sold." She closed her eyes, savoring the miracle that had begun to happen a while ago and that was developing into something so exciting and unpredictable it took her breath away. "On one condition."

"Name it," Klaus smiled.

"I want something needy and romantic. Now."

"Very well. But do recall that you asked for it." His smile widened, and the tiny malicious gleam she loved so much glimmered in his eyes. His lips, silken and determined, found her neck in a lingering kiss that made her sigh with delight. "We have been faring quite well with deals closed in Paris, have we not?" His tongue followed the trail of his lips, burning her skin to ash. "How about another one?"

Her pulse faltered when he bit her neck with his human teeth. "Let's hear it."

"Whilst I do not like the idea of you having your own place in New Orleans for the first few months, I shall live with it. But you will spend the nights in my arms. Every night. I do not care where and how. When I woke up a little while ago and found you gone..." Klaus shook his head. "Do not leave me without a word again. No matter how short your absence."

Caroline felt the echo of a familiar ache in her heart. She had gone through this same kind of fear countless times herself. When her father had abandoned her, more than once. Whenever her Mom had left for work - or learned that her daughter had been turned into a vampire. When Tyler had made his choice. That debilitating fear of loss, of being left behind, and of not understanding why. And with frightening clarity, she saw that the idea of Klaus doing the same to her was... the very worst of nightmares.

"I will never go without a word. I promise," she whispered with a long, lingering kiss to his temple.

"As for needy and romantic - do you see any chance of my convincing you never to leave me at all?"

A warm glow replaced the twinge in her heart. "So you want to sit next to me through my college classes, come with me when I get my hair done, be there when I shave my legs..."

"Well, my love, I do want to _come with you _several times a day, but I will gladly leave out the aforementioned," he snickered before he covered her lips with his. Electricity flowed through her when their tongues met; they were pulled deeper and deeper into each other's spell, moaning quietly with freshly stoked arousal... and all those newly admitted feelings that reached far beyond lust. When they broke the fiery kiss to catch their breaths, Klaus said, "You know what I mean, Caroline."

"I do. And yes, you have a fair chance of convincing me. One thing, though."

"Yes?"

"Is there any chance of my convincing _you_ to tone down your... ahm... somewhat despotic rule? Let me finish," she added when he was about to interrupt. "What I'm talking about is stuff like Amaury's jail, or yours, for that matter. I understand there have to be rules, and that those rules need to be enforced for the sake of all of us, but I also think there are several ways to do that."

Klaus leaned back, settling comfortably on his side and pulling her snug against him before resting his head in his hand. "Would you prefer every trespasser to be court-martialed and executed at once, regardless of his offense?"

"No, of course not. But having people rot away for centuries can't be the solution, either."

"Bear in mind our rather long lifespan. A vampire of three hundred years will not be overly impressed by a gaol sentence of a few months."

"Then develop a penalty scale. Criminal law, so to speak. A fixed system of set punishment for all sorts of crimes. You want to rule, don't you? You thrive on being king." He nodded wordlessly. "Then rule, but don't do it by the seat of your pants. You said you already have established rules in New Orleans - well, make those into actual supernatural laws. Write them down and let everyone know. The vampires, the witches, the wolves. And that's what I mean when I ask you to tone down your megalomania. Be a real king, not just the rogue Hybrid who sends everyone running for cover."

He rose at that, approaching the window. Dusk was gradually beginning to descend, and one by one, the street lanterns flared up in their distinct shade. Caroline watched, transfixed, how the lights bathed his incredible body in ever-changing shimmers. He was beautiful, her man, and she hoped to have more of him as he was now. Relaxed, open, and without the dozens of burdens he was carrying on his strong shoulders. Although one had to be fair - many of those burdens were self-imposed. Perhaps she could find a way to alleviate some of them, over time. He stood very straight, giving no indication as to what was going on in his head, nor did he move. Hadn't she seen his chest rising and falling at a steady pace, she might have started to worry whether the biblical story of Lot's wife and the pillar of salt hadn't been so far-fetched after all. His tone was wary when he finally spoke.

"I prefer not to be too predictable. And I am not used to justifying my decisions, Caroline."

"So you want fear over respect?"

"That is not what I said."

"But it's the logical consequence," she countered. "People won't respect their king if one day, he merely snaps someone's neck for killing a mortal in plain daylight, and a day later sends another one to burn in the sun for the exact same crime just because he happens to have his Hybrid fangs in a twist. Or..."

"I get the picture. Why don't you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Put down vampire laws."

Caroline stared at him as he turned to face her, leaning against the windowsill and folding his arms across his chest. She cleared her throat, nonplussed. "You want to be king. Isn't that your job?"

"And you're the queen consort, so to speak. Why should it not be yours?"

"You wouldn't accept a single one of my suggestions!"

"That is very possible. But I thoroughly enjoy arguing with you, my love, and who knows - we might even find a compromise here and there. Eventually."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but she couldn't find any hints at his not taking her seriously. "Why are you giving in so quickly?" she demanded, her suspicions not entirely erased. With the speed of a bullet, Klaus was back on the bed - and she in his arms.

"I feel far too blissful today to discuss violence. What is more, your idea holds some interesting aspects I want to have a closer look at, but not now. Are we agreed, then? You will take up the task?"

"Fine," she murmured, once again surprised at his utter confidence in her - and his willingness to fight his own stubbornness where she was concerned. "Lots of deals that we closed today... quite something to digest."

"Indeed. But let us forget about it all for now. For just one more night. Are you hungry?"

She wrapped her leg around his hips, her hand sliding down his chiseled chest and abs, moving more determinedly when she heard him suck in a breath. "Starving." Her fingers found his hardening cock and softly began to stroke him. "What are we going to do about it?"

"Caroline," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "let me hear it again. Just once."

"No." The immediate surge of agony in his eyes taught her how fragile his belief in their newfound relationship still was. What had Elijah said? _There is nothing he cannot overcome, but you have the power to break him beyond repair._ "No, Klaus, not once. Often. Very often. And I want you to believe me when I speak the words. And when I don't say them out loud." Her fingers never ceased their caresses as she brought his face to hers. "I love you," she whispered against his lips, and again, "I love you."

"I was wrong." He bit his lip at her incessant touch, his hand finding the delicate skin of her breast. They stared at each other when he said, "You are not a queen consort. You are a queen in your own right. My queen."

_As you're my king. Not that I'll tell you yet._

"So you're at my orders, then?" she purred, stroking him more firmly and delighting in his helpless little moan.

"Right now, my love, there is nothing you cannot ask of me," he managed to mutter.

With one swift motion, she took his hot, hard cock into her depths, unable to stop a small sob from escaping her at the sensation of utter completeness. "I want you to fuck me. Then make love to me. Then fuck me again. And then buy me a Chanel and take me to the most ridiculously expensive restaurant of all. Because tonight, I am in the mood for all the glitz and glamor in the world!"

Klaus gave a quick thrust that made her mewl. "Problem is, once I am done fucking you and making love to you and fucking you again, everything will be closed."

"Then I suggest you hurry," she giggled, interrupted by a new moan when he moved again.

"New deal: I will fuck you, then take you out, fuck you again on the way home... and make love to you until the sun rises."

"I... a...accept," she stuttered as she arched under his powerful, knowing hands.

* * *

Much later, long after Klaus had exhaustively made good on each of his promises, he was slumbering peacefully in her arms, a smile playing around his still swollen lips. Caroline found herself unable to sleep, breathe, or take her eyes off his face. Her feelings seemed to strengthen with every new second of intimacy between them, not only in bed, but in everything else they shared. But that wasn't all. Together with her growing love for Klaus, a new fear had opened inside her heart like a budding rose. She had spoken of it in theory at Héloïse and Abélard's grave when she had explained to him how looking open-eyed at all the tragedy that could happen to one's love would prevent said tragedy from happening. What if she had been wrong? What if something happened anyway? Amaury, whom they would endeavor to find starting tomorrow, Mikael, Esther, all those other enemies… What if they ended up like the famous but unfortunate lovers? What if...

"What worries you, my love?"

She started a little at the sudden sound of his voice, and even more so at his uncanny instinct.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep. Everything's fine."

"Caroline."

Klaus shifted so he could take a better look at her, lifting a brow as she sighed. "Seriously, it's not important."

"I disagree. Tell me."

"You're a pest," she murmured, smiling when he traced a finger along her brow. "I was just thinking of the dangerous world we live in."

"Dangerous in general... or dangerous for you and me?"

"The latter."

"What is it you fear?" He gathered her closer, and his arms came around her in the most protective embrace she had ever known.

_This is what I fear, Klaus. Losing this in any way._

Aloud, she said, "Nothing in particular. I just don't want to end up like..."

"Héloïse and Abélard."

"Have I been talking in my sleep again?"

He chuckled. "As a matter of fact, you have, last night. But what you spoke of then was rather X-rated." Running a hand through his hair, he went on. "Yes, Caroline, our place is a dangerous one, even within the supernatural world. We are both strong, we are both powerful, yet we are not invincible. And we are only at the very beginning of our journey together. Whilst our bond will grow stronger by the day, we must never let down our guard. I will look out for you as you will look out for me. Times may come when we will need to fight for what we have. I am more than willing to do so, every day of my life. The question you will need to ask yourself is, are you?"

"What if we fight... and lose?" Caroline was sure he had heard the tremor in her words.

"We won't."

She creased her brows. "How can you be so sure?"

His smile was filled with the same wonder she had seen in his eyes ever since she had shown up the previous day. "Very simple. I have fought for a great many causes in my life. Some good and justified, others less so, a few outright stupid. My fight for you, for _us_, means more to me than all others put together. H.G. Chesterton once said, _The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him._ That is why I will never lose this fight, Caroline. Never. And I know you can fight even harder than I do, but it will remain your decision if you wish to commit to this particular battle."

Sitting up, she pulled him with her, slipping onto his lap and wrapping her legs around his hips. This was the strange thing she had sensed about Klaus from the very beginning - he was the one who could dissolve her doubts and fears without ever sugarcoating reality. Albeit overprotective at times, he always called upon her strength - and her strength grew for it. Funny, she mused fleetingly, how for so long she had believed true love to be the fairytale prince shielding the princess from the world, catering to her every whim while being a nice and wholesome pillar of the community. She had been dead wrong. True love wasn't nice and easy and cute and pure. It was the man who challenged his woman, who trusted her fortitude and encouraged her to grow it on her own. Who accepted being challenged by her and at the same time never lost faith in who she was - and who they were together.

True love was what she was looking at.

"Let's fight, then," she said firmly, taking both of his hands in hers. "We'll take on the world. One day at a time."

Klaus lifted her hands to his lips. His eyes were shining with dark blue fires. "Spoken like the queen you are. May I humbly beg for permission to make love to Your Majesty?"

With a very un-regal giggle, Caroline gave a dismissive wave, trying in vain to accurately imitate his English accent. "Granted. Do proceed." Her lighthearted laughter floated through the room when Klaus rolled his eyes.

Their miracle would be hard work. It would be fun. Exhilarating. Sexy. Dangerous.

And they would fight for it. Every day.

Always and forever.

THE END


End file.
